By Jove missus !Once again the leaders of Grotty Cash have called upon me, Sir Diddy to help them out of their mess.
Cometh the hour, cometh the chequebook!
How could I possibly stand by with Nero Bradlicus fiddling while Rome burns.
And him a fire fighter too!
My first bit of advice to Wally, is from his own handbook: “Get out and stay out!”
Yes by Jove, since that awful woman, Audrey Commission wrote her damning report into the finances and behaviour of the silly console, all they have been able to come up with is a list of alleged achievements to try and counter the bad publicity.
Trouble is nobody believes them any more! So they thought how can we turn this around?
The solution is simple; recruit a really convincing liar, one prepared, as they say in Liverpool, to “swear on me Ma’s gravy.” The Lying Bistos!
So ladies and gentlemen, with the help of me Cuban heels, I am ready to rise to the occasion. Steady missus, Lady Diddy reads this, so no smutty innuendos.
I know you’d all like to see me stripped of my knighthood, but you’d never get passed me money-belt.
The only person who gets to see me in me birthday suit is my accountant who doubles as a proctologist. Well, you need to carry some loose change!
But by Jove, what a mammoth task Wally has left me! Ha ha! A Wally Mammoth! I thought they’d all become extinct? Well, they soon will be!
Just to show the scale of the task ahead, Mac the Marmaliser has sent me an email exchange on the first draft copy of their achievement list printed below.
You can see what I am up against.
Stilton,Hilton
2Cex. E for my shirt
Room 101
Municipality of Mirth
Wally,
As requested here is first draft for list of Glib-Dum achievements.
Achievements
1.
2.
Shall we continue with numbers all the way down the page and will we need some words next to them?
Please advise urgently.
Kind Regards
Stilton
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Bradlow, Wally
Leaders Office
Room 999
On the ledge of 5th floor, don’t try to talk me down
Municipality of Mirth
With respect Milton, that’s not what I am saying or what we are about.
You only have to look at our track suit bottoms to see that what we have done has been about getting things done and that’s not just numbers but things that count to the people of Liverpool and I know if I was to ask them what they want, numbers on a page or a list of numbers, they would say numbers and you can count me into that too Roger.
And don’t forget that we saved the Lambanana! Put that at the top please Jason!
Kind Fireguards
Wally
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So ladies and gentlemen, here is just a sample of the list of great achievements I have compiled to show people that under my leadership we did achieve great things and under my effluence can do again.
Great Achievements, Great City, Great Salary.
The Doings of Sir Diddy, The “Knight of a New Day” ( my new slogan dreamt up for me by a marvel -ess new company, Harbottle Disassociates)
The Top Twenty List of Achievements
1 Liverpool now has the lowest council tax in Liverpool.
2 Frozen meals for pensioners - most have no teeth in Liverpool so ideal for sucking and energy efficient. Less roughage content also means lower carbon emissions. The old folk love it! Rissole on a stick, Rabbit Sushi, Sardine Vindaloo, and a big spotted dick….who delivers it. (Well, we had to find another role for Storeyteller after his first trip to the Standards Board).
3 Closed down out-dated day care centres - thus helping to reduce traffic congestion, by getting rid of those slow yellow mini buses. I mean these days people don’t want that kind of service in a modern city, all those depressing faces looking out the bus window, puts you off your 12” subway cheesy ciabatta sarnie. So we have assisted in keeping them trapped in their homes, with a regular midnight visit from a fully qualified Asbo community service volunteer. 
4 Appointed Bet Lynch herself (Julie Goodyear) as Ambassador for Liverpool.
5 Achieved World Hattiejaques status for the waterfront and the 3 grocers.
6 Sent Alsop packing with a cloud over his head.
7 Reduced street homelessness in Liverpool by obstructing the tramp line to Kirkby as it didn’t include Jack Lemon Airport (even though we asked them to squeeze it in).
8 Established a major international tourist attraction for tramline enthusiasts with the largest collection of new rusting tram tracks in Europe.
9 Created one of the largest and most expensive call centres in the world with the longest recorded message to allow people to consider if they really…really need to speak to anyone. Well worth £170 million.
10 Won CAPITAL OF CUSTARD for the city creating one of the most hilarious chapters in our 800 years of history (see separate entries under Laughing Stock, Harbottle, Fordli Capri, Meryl Streep Festival, Bingo Starr, Riu Van Winkle, Phil Redsnapper, Stunned Fish and Bankruptcy).
11 Raised millions of pounds of support (in kind) towards financing the COC - which adds up to: 3,000 promised lies in the Echo and ignoring all dodgy dealings until 2012.Two Million cheese pies and 950,000 sausage rolls from Sayers, 20,000 Busby beanie toys. 400 autographed photos of Maureen Lipman. And Bob Hoskins’ overcoat and scarf from British Telecom. And a dilithium crystal from Enterprise. Well-done Jasper Harbottle on that. By the way did you manage to sell the cow…oh magic beans as well?
12 Got shut of Jasper Harbottle at a bargain price considering how much more the idiot would have got us into hock.
13 Upheld the pledge for a greener Liverpool and protecting our parks by doing everything we can to lay some nice new turf in Stanley Park to allow for a kick-about.
14 Spent nearly £3million in council tax fighting that troublemaker in Edge Lane who wanted a few extra grand for her house to be demolished.
15 Held steadfast against the Nazi war machine and the Luftwaffe during the May Blitz (check date before forwarding, I know I went to some conference about this)
16 Beat them again in 1966 (as above)
17 Three new wheelie bins in Croxteth and an Alleygate on the shower in Misadventure Place (to keep out brunettes, errr, I mean burglars!)
18 Won Eurovision song contest with winner of Song for Liverpool competition…..how does it go again..?
19 Built a shed to prevent birds doing doo-dah on Executive Defectives porsches.
20 Followed through on our pledge to raise the standard of living for the city by making the Chief Executive and Executive Directors the highest paid in the country, whilst overseeing the worst council in the country. It’s what is called a balanced approach. The Ying and the Yang and a touch of the tiddle i po. They can’t touch you for it!
Well ladies and gentlemen, the list could go on into the thousands and you are free to submit your own thoughts on the greatest achievements of the last 10 years.
With My Spin Dryers working away to win back hearts and minds, my next task will be to set about once again restructuring the entire council services.
A slimmed down administration with a new focus on the things that matter to the people.
By the time they see my plans they will all say, “Yes, we should have gone to specsavers.”
By Jove I need to fluff up me tickling stick, the adrenalin is rising, a new beginning, a new Liverpool and me on a Consultants fee!
If I can drag this out long enough I’ll be worth more than the Consultant of Brunei!
I could even reassemble some of the old crew, Granny Shepard, Tiny-tory Byrne, sadly Genghis…can’t make it, nor Attila the Girls but Doc the Marmaliser will be waiting there for me, with open cheques and a tear in his beady eye.
By Jove missus I’m all a quiver, my full restructure plan for officers and members is formulating before my eyes. 
Don’t worry Liverpool!
I am returning.
Forget Our Lord Redmond, I am the true Messiah.
The Second Conning!
There will of course have to be some new Senior Executive posts created to make the organisation “fit for payoffs” and along with that will be the necessity for some cuts at other levels.
But once complete, let me reassure the remaining staff on the front line. His Job is safe.
For now…
Tatty bye everybody Tatty Bye!
Posts
5 comments:
Good gracious Chucklebutty you cant be serious about Sir Diddy returning can you? it must surely be someone's very very bad idea of humour Who on earth has got that much bad taste?
C'mon Dame Butty Packer, you know you still love me.
Alright, I left you to pay the bill in Chez Guava's but i had left my wallet in the taxi and as soon as I realised when I nipped to the gents, as the bill arrived, I rushed straight out of the nearest exit, which happened to be the window, to see if I could find the cab. Yes I know the same thing happend when I took you to Fidel Gastro's. But your affections are worth more to me than money, that's why I never bring any.
xxx
Its no good groveling now you little vampire slug, this city wants nothing more to do with you now shoo and be off with you back to your evil lair
It's me again Sugarbutty, Sir Diddy Dums.
Oh Dame Butty-Packer, you must still care for me if you continue using your pet name for me,
"Little Vampire Slug"
But I am cross with you now for publishing the name of my new house in Wales "Evil Lair" I'll have to move again now.
But listen you saucy minx, my final offer! Forget Chez Guava's and Fidel Gastro's How about if I take you out to a proper Cuban 'Eel Bar?
xxx
By Jove, Missus! It is with ill-disguised rage (a plastic nose and false moustache) that I address the people of Grotty Cash today. I should have known by previous experience to expect this but the recent turn of events has taken even my breath away. (Which should save me a few bob on extra strong mints) Yes Missus, The Night of the Penknives has started!
Now we all knew this would happen but here’s the twist, it’s Wee Wally Bradlow, that is holding the knife, (well he has to have a grown-up with him or a Teacher) while the gutless Diddymen of the Glib-Dums bring their knitting into the Chuckle Chamber and mutter under their wheezing last breaths before May.
Yes Missus, I am talking about DE-SELECTION!!!!!
Now I warn you ladies and gentlemen, this is not the usual rambling of Sir Diddy, when he hacks into my Blog to peddle his tales of woe, poverty, discomknockeration and having to survive on a pension. No this is the full Academic thrust, calm down missus, of my Professorship. I will be dealing with scholarly and philofaxical issues.
So with that warning, before I continue to explain my personal rage at what has taken place, allow me to enlighten those of you who may be unfamiliar with the “Selection” theories of Charles Drake, contained in his major work on Evolution,
“Hello My Darlings” or The Survival of the Fattest Cat.
Now, I always say don’t bother with the book when you can see the movie. So as you may recall from the film “I’ve Inherited Wind” when Samantha’s husband Darren, from “Bewitched” gave up advertising and got a job as a school teacher, he had to go to court to fight the church and the establishment over the right to teach children about the “Natural Selection” of Councillors. The “Monkey Trial”, as it became known.
The establishment argued that “Creation” must be taught in our schools and it is against Sod’s Law to say we end up with Monkeys in our council chambers. They presented their arguments based on religious teachings and the Book of Genesis from the gospel of Rick Walkman.
Now Darwin, that’s Charles, and not to be confused with Darren, in the film, although his mother-in-law sometimes called him Darwin in bewitched, where was I? Yes, Darwin presented his case quoting from the Book of Genitals, often dismissed as bollocks, by the church, whereby it is believed that only through a process of natural selection may Humankind be trusted to hold political office otherwise you just get Monkeys.
This angered the establishment, to have their political representatives compared to Apes and they pointed to an example of a local councillor who was also remarkably, although highly unlikely, a direct descendent of Darwin, none other than Councillor Frank Darwin of the Dickensian Fields ward. Are we to believe, they challenged, that this fine councillor standing here before you is an accident of nature? Can you compare this good man, to a Monkey?
Now this would have been a strong argument, had Frank not been swinging on a tyre at the time, after somebody had dumped 2,000 of them in his constituency.
But let us focus on the main theological arguments. Briefly, the Establishment or Creationist view teaches that Sod is the divine selector, he created the first man, who was called Dick, and Sod placed him alone in Sir Anthony Eden’s Garden, where he could eat Liberal helpings of what ever he liked, apart from Ramsey Macdonald’s forbidden fruit MacFlurry. Now Dick, or “Clueless” as he is referred to in ancient Greek Kebab texts, he was after all the first of his kind and had little knowledge of the new world or calorie controlled diets, started eating everything in sight, apart from the vegetables. So the Creationists believe that a Barbecued Rib was taken from the side of Dick’s plate and that this was used to create a Turnip, or as it was later to be known, a Bernie Turnip. We all know it today as a fairly tasteless vegetable with an odd perfume and usually half-baked.
Now she started to pinch all the burgers off of his plate and they began fighting over the Pizzas. Yes, Missus, Pizzas are as old as that, BC (big crust) not just AD (Anno Domino’s). Now the Turnip, they argue, was enticed over to the yellow arches of the MacDonald tree that formed a large “M” in the garden, by an oily haired serpent that smelled of Peroni. The Serpent asked the Turnip if she would like some MacFlurry and if she wanted fries with it. She of course scoffed the lot and felt great shame when she later stood on the bathroom scales. When Dick saw that there was none of the MacFlurry left for him he tried to vote her out of Edens’garden but being only two of them, they could not get a majority and so to resolve this dilemma they began to begat.
When they had begated enough, and since there was no risk of disease at that time they were able to have safe seats, they formed the first council through which they could make decisions about who gets all the free dinners. But in doing so, they lost their innocence and any chance of developing original thought and so became destined to remain glib and dumb. The first Glib-Dum council.
(Note: It is interesting that from their later begatings they formed a Brewery and a Pop group, Cain and Abe. Cains is still around purveying fine ales but the other is now lost without record apart from a brief appearance in the film epic Status Quo Vadis and a support role in the Name of the Father)
Charlie Darwin challenged this simplistic literal view of the creation and the selection of councillors and it has of course been challenged by many scholars with strange hair, including, Sir Melvin Blogg, of the Southbank Show who, on this very subject, did a 26 week series on Men and Motors. Sir Melvyn examined new translations of ancient texts carried out by Professor Stanley Unwin, of Invercockieleekie University
(regular readers will be familiar with his work)
According to Professor Unwin, said Blogg “the words used in the Gospelloes have hold severmole different meanings as our linguode has developmost over a periole of two thrimsold years or more”. The quote is taken from Unwins' Cereal work
“ Darwin’s Theoromes on the developmode of Silly Consoles and the Teacherings of the Gospelloes.” Chapto 2 The Deaf Sea Scrawls.
For example, Professor Unwin points out that Peroni, is an early Aramaic word for Story and that the word Serpent is a corruption of Servant, so, “one who serves a story” A Story Teller. The fact that Peroni is now also the name of a beer that is a bit “pissy” Unwin, jokes rather crudely, means that the whole account is that of a supposed servant and storyteller who today would be seen as somebody who is “taking the piss”. Therefore, nothing relating to the Glib-Dums is to be believed or taken literally.
So there you have it ladies and gentlemen. The finest scholars and academics and even Sir Melvyn Wig agree that the Glib-Dums must allow natural selection to produce our elected representatives and not base it on a fat-filled diet of nose-bagging and underhand plotting by serpents. The recent work by Professor Unwin, who incidentally used to be on the same pub quiz team with me, whilst at Cambridge (the pub not the University) but that is beside the point as we never won anything and he was a total liability, anyway his work is beyond dispute by those who can understand it. So it is for this reason that I began with ill-disguised rage. Can you remember that far back? I shall explain.
Against all the proven laws of natural selection, I, Professor Chucklebutty, have been de-selected through the conniving and plotting of Wee Hamish Bradlow and Dickey Mint the Storeyteller. Thwarting my chance of becoming the Elected Mayor for the City of Grotty Cash. After receiving 80% of the vote crushing the latest rival Phyll the Lord Redlips and smashing the original sole candidate, Mr Foghorn Leggarty with his outspoken “An Elected Mayor, I say Mayor, for Grotty Cash” campaign.
80% missus! How many of them got that share of the vote? Alright it was only 29 actual votes, but that is democracy.
And why ladies and gentlemen have Bradlow and Dickey Mint allowed this penknife to be brought out? Is it because people dared to ask? I got Beatrice Franksfornothing to ask a few awkward questions about finance and then young Kenny Forthright to ask, Wally who it was that booked Mr Plinka-Plonka as the sole outdoor event for the disastrous Matt Munro Street Festival last year and how much did it cost? Both were shown the usual local Glib Dum tolerance of anybody who attempts to question them, and swiftly deselected with a size ten boot up the clucass. Two unmistakeable giggles could be heard coming from the room next door. By Jove, somebody pass me a dictionary to look up the words liberal and democrat again….I better check socialism while I am there, as that may have been modified ever so slightly in the last few years. But that’s the old style politics. As a former Jam butty miner I am of course a Neo Preservative so as far as I am concerned it’s all a load of ballots.
And my question, I hear you ask? What caused the wrath of my former little friend Wally Bradlow to plunge the de-selection knife into the old Professor?
Well I simply asked, why was a poor vulnerable pensioner like Sir Diddy forced to retire on a measly £395,000 pay-off when there was still tens of millions waiting to be squandered and poured down the pan. Some of that could have been poured in my direction! They threw me down the steps of the Chuckle Chamber. How dare they!?
I shall now consider whether to stand as an Independent. In which case, I shall bring back flogging. That’s if they haven’t flogged everything by the time I step into my converted motorised Lambanana Mayoral Limousine.
Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye!
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