Bangkok Lady Boys, Cheap Sausage Rolls and Pay-offs, as Mrs Chucklebutty speaks out and takes on Dr Tim Leuni -Tune and Ringo Out-of-Tune.

That's me, at our Engagement, taken a few years ago now mind, but better than that picture he always puts up of me renewing our wedding vows.

Hello, Mrs Chucklebutty here, stepping into his breeches. So, I’ve finally got me hands on the keys to his shed. This is where he spends half the night writing this rubbish. Ooh it stinks in here. He’s asked me to do a few entries until he’s released from the nick. I’ve just read the last piece, after Mr Clack showed me how to turn this thing on. Had a quick look at his last searches to give us a clue what he wanted to write about and found something advertising The Bangkok Lady boys Show, no wonder it’s called Liverpool Confidential, wait ‘til I get me hands on him!

What are they on about here? Trying to make out he’s some kind of dissident. None payment of fines, that’s why he was arrested!

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Telly licence, three counts of drunk and disorderly and fighting over some reduced vests in Ethel Austin’s. To cap it all, he was caught having a piddle in one of those council kiosks that nobody uses - well apart from him. Said he thought it was one of those super-loos. Well somebody is taking the p*** installing them on the street. Anyway, he got the Custard Company to put a spin on his arrest. The usual cover-up.

The truth is, they are going to pay him off, but as there’s no money left, since Hasitall grabbed the last £500,000, he’s decided to take the Sayers 08 Sponsorship Sausage Rolls. He had a big fight over that as well, said he wanted so many a week, not 960,000 all in one go or he’d never shift them - they’d go off.

Well it’s too late now; they delivered them today while he’s still banged up. Can’t get in the bleedin’ house for them! We are doing our best to get rid of them, Mr Clack had six for his tea and as soon as it got dark we threw about twenty thousand over the wall into Mrs Hewitt’s garden. She must have heard us when a few hit the window and she came out screaming for the police, so we ran in. She’s still shouting through our letterbox now.

Anyway, sod whatever he was going to write, it’s about time this Blog had the feminine touch. And you can take that smirk off your face Mr Clack.

Right so what’s been happening? Oh yes, there was the Echo exclusive, “Merseyside woman gives birth to 1.6million pound triplets” I’ll bet that made her eyes water. The Echo had a picture of them. Greedy looking little buggers. Not the most attractive babies I’ve seen, a slimy one, a dopey one and a fat little diddy one. Seems they were such fat little sods, it has taken nearly three years to weigh them up. Isn’t this the same woman who had a daughter a few years ago who tipped the scales at about 380,000 pounds? Who pays for this IMF fertiliser programme?

It must have hurt though. Our Sebastian was only 9 pounds when I had him and I screamed so loud all the windows shattered along Oxford Street. Mind you it didn’t help that soft lad handed me the nozzle off the Goblin Hoover, instead of the gas and air. Me tongue was trapped down the tube for over half an hour. The pillock! Then he switched it on reverse and covered the baby in dust and fag ends.

Of course that wouldn’t happen now, these days you can’t smoke during labour or even in the maternity ward. Bloody Nanny state. I’ll bet Cherry Booth was all right for a few woodbines when she had her last one.

I heard she’s on 60 a day. Can fit them all in at once. She’s a right one her, fancy havin’ it off in the next room to the Queen - the dirty gets - Arise Sir Tony eh? Ooh, it knocks me sick to think about it. Didn’t somebody say that Phillip was watching through the eyes of one of the portraits?


I’ve lost me thread now.

Sorry I just had to punch Mr Clack in the head. I told him to pack it in, he was getting a bit frisky - pressing his skinny leg against me while I’m typing - thinks he’s in with a chance while soft lad is inside. Oh stop blubbering man! Hold your head back it’ll soon stop bleeding, it’s not pouring. Don’t drip it on the cat, if Ken tastes blood he’ll have yer, he’s feral.

What else? Well that Bingo Starr was in the papers again, moaning on his website telling fans to stop writing to him. The bleedin’ idiot.

Nobody is writing to ya love, it’s your P.A. sending them, she’s worried about you going back on the booze and pills if you find out nobody is interested.

She’s worried that she’d be out of a job. What a tosser. And I say that with love and peas. I used to like him as well, but now I hear he’s just like one of these Pop Primate Donners or an Opera Diver whatever you call them, has to be pampered and preened all the time.

I heard that while he was at the train station in South Liverpool, he had somebody rush up to trim his bush for him. Oooh, imagine, as Lennon would have said. A right little Octopus’s Garden that must be, I’ll bet it smells like it as well, shrivelled old tentacles and a blue meanie. I’m saying this with love and peace you know?

Mr Clack says to turn it in, and that I’m disgusting. He’s a fine one to talk, him, with his collection of rusty old chastity belts. I’ve seen him, prancing about to “Hey Nonny No” on the gramophone wearing one with that bodice and wig. He forgot to pull the curtains properly one night; half the street was out watching.

All the school kids were singing it outside his shop for weeks. Oh all right yes, I’ll delete this bit.

Liverpool Direct is up for another award for customer contricks. The CCA, cash and carry awards, I think. Create an industry of call centres everybody hates and set up a body with hundreds of members so all the Directors can come to the freebie dinners and give yourself loads of annual awards.

Have you seen how much that lot cost us? And that’s just what we know about. About five times the budget deficit! For that money, every house in Liverpool could have a council officer sitting next to you on the couch for three hours a day. They could sell all the buildings then, oh they already have. That’d be great for the pensioners; they could do a bit of tidying up and make the tea as well. There you go Mr Stilton, you can bin those robbers off, once and for all. Send Dr Mucky Penny to a crack house in Croxteth.

I tried to get into the Cathedral the other night to see that little Boffin, Dr Tim Leunie.

They always call them Boffins in the paper when they don’t like what they’re saying or inventing something that stops your veg drying up or your plums shrivelling, you know, like where they put your strawberries on a radiator or something to keep them fresh for longer. You know the bloke I mean, the one who said we should all leave Liverpool and get a job with Burger King in Hackney, if we wanted to live as well as those in the south.

Dr Tim Leunig

Anyway I got there a bit late and they wouldn’t open the doors for me so I started kicking hell out of them. I was shouting through the letterbox calling them all the effing b’s going and to open the friggin doors or I’ll put the windows through. I did in the end.

Bloody cheek, trying to keep me out of the debate, I am not having some little sod giving us a bad name. Ay, it’s my city too ya know, I shouted, gerrout here now yer little squirt! Then this Nun came out and said it was at the other Cathedral.

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She wanted me name and address to pay for the damage to the window and door. I told her my name was Olivia Cromwell, but she got all shirty and tried to grab me, so I turned her wimple backwards, spun her round and did a runner down Hope Street.

I was too late to see our learned muffin by the time I got there. I probably didn’t miss much. Is he the same Dr Timothy Learrig who was around in the 60s, the one who said “Turn-On, Tune-In, Drop-Off” or is that the slogan for CitytalkFM?

Thing is, when you read what he said, he’s not too far off the mark. Even the Echo is pissing off to Oldham. I didn’t know that Oldham was in the south. And how come they are going south, if what I heard is right, that they are letting all the printer’s jobs go west?


Ay! I’ll tell you where I went the other night, the new Oldham Arena in the docks.

I couldn’t believe my luck. I got tickets to see Alma Coogan, you know “Dreamboat” oh she was one of my favourites. I loved her as Alma Partridge in The Partridge Family.

What a disappointment though, I had me bobby socks on and everything and she didn’t do any of her hits, just stood there and told smutty jokes all night.

I hope the gig in Birkenhead is better next week. They’ve got Frank Ifield on; he’s an MP now you know. I expect that’s why he’s not done many records for a while. Give me half an hour with him and I’d have him yodelling again.

Here's Frank demonstrating the perils of having the bath water too hot.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqORTeW01m0

There are a few former stars that have become MPs. Glenda Jackson; she was wonderful as Mr Hudson in Upstairs Downstairs. The Home Secretary, Jacqui Smith, she's another one, wasn’t she Holly in Red Dwarf, after Norman Lamont left?

And of course the Tory leader David Camembert, he used to be Tuppy Glossop in Jeeves and Wooster or was he Barmy Fungi Phipps.

Oh it’s six o’clock, nearly visiting time. I don’t know if Mr Clack is coming to the prison, they had a bit of a fall out. Old Clacky being a locksmith and key cutter was explaining quietly to Yaff how flimsy the locks were in the prison and he could open them all in less than a minute with a couple of bent wires.

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Old Professor Birdbrain of Alcatraz, was all geared up for the great escape. The next thing he knows, is there’s Clack changing all the locks for the Governor. He’d gone and got himself the contract.

It is depressing in there and he’s starting to look gaunt. Although that may be because of his 28st cellmate Muriel, who keeps pinching his dinner and sitting on Yaffle's head for a laugh while he eats it. Mureil made Yaf shave his legs and his back for him as well. I don’t know what that was about. Oh that reminds me, Bangkok Lady boys. I could have those tickets.

He’ll probably be out next week; he’s had Sir Rexy on the case. Rex has applied for a writ of Harry H. Corpus, well we think he has. There is a rumour going round that he has been offered a stint to take over the Custard Blog as guest writer for a week.

Now that could be a problem, he could let Jasper Harbottle on, apparently he thinks he’s great. Mind you that was in comparison to old Pricerite.

Speaking of which, I better go and do me hair, what’s left of it, I’ve got the lovely Peter Price coming round later for a Cherry B and Sherbet Lemon supper. I wonder if he still has that fur coat?

I’ve hardly mentioned Capital of Custard. Oh who cares, it’s nearly all finished now apart from the karaoke in January. Then again, they say it’s not over until the bag lady sings, so maybe Redmond will give us a number on the closing night. He could do that Fred Astaire one, “Let’s call the whole thing off” But they are still pretending that they haven’t.

How does it go? You say a cock-up and I say a cock-up, you say a pay-off and I say a pay-off.

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The Legacy Waltz.

Right now what? Do you press send or what? Mr Clack, you’ll have to do this bit.

Yes I’ve deleted the stuff about your Chastity Belt fetish….alright, hobby, collection - whatever.

Internetto Price Wars, Hairbrushed from History by Bookface, Down amongst The Z Celebs, Professor In Custardy. People urged to Calm Down-Calm Down!

Public Announcement From the Bloggit Bureau

The 5th plenum of the Anti State Activities Bureau of The Peoples Repugnant Of Grotty Cash, has issued a warrant for the arrest and execution (insert “trial” ed.) of the infamous blogsterist and impostor, Pete Price.

This impostor, who has dared to mock our celebrated Ambassador to HollyOaks, the voice of the people against a rising tide of vile no-marks and moral decline, a man who is the very rubber soul of our party, will not be allowed to continue in his anti panto activities.

The Beijingo Authorities continue to close in on the dissident Bloggers in and around Grotty Cash Province, who seek to challenge the ideas of the Great Custard Revolution and the official party line. High on the list are Price, Terry Blame's blogs, The Scribbling on a Jotter Over Muesli blog and of course the infamous Toby Porridge. The authorities have immediately removed all trace of Price from the Bookface social not-working site and asked that people remain calm.

Following the Peoples Long March and the even longer April, there has been an increase in dissident activity, inspired by the self-styled Sub-Cult Leader and instigator of The Great Leak Forwarded, the Urbane Guerrilla, Toby Porridge47.

Porridge is suspected of being a follower of the former revolutionary leader, who was one time ally of Cuban President, Filo Pastro, before becoming the iconic and ubiquitous subject of student bedroom pin-up posters the world over, Che Ken Stevens.

Porridge is also known to be connected to the Anti Cuban Heel movement that lead to the downfall of the much loved little batista, regime of General Diddy Henochet. Since then, Porridge has launched direct attacks on the government of President Juan Peroni, and continues to attack the authority of the administration using the vile tactics of truth and public accountability.

The Bloggit Bureau is pleased to announce that following a successful operation earlier, the blogsterist known as Professor Yaffle Chucklebutty has been arrested and detained. The Official Custard Bureau has now taken control of the blogsite.

A spokesman for the local governing administration said, at the moment the leader has little intelligence.

We hope to learn more as interrogation gets underway. The leader was informed that the name Chucklebutty is thought to be fictitious and that he may be using a pseudonym. On hearing this news, the leader wasted no time and issued an immediate arrest warrant for Sue Denham, who is now safely under lock and key protesting her innocence along with 17 others of the same name.

Although the arrest operation was a hailed a success, as a handcuffed Chucklebutty emerged from his shed after having thrown out two soviet manufactured AK47 tickling sticks to waiting troops, over 130 officers were seriously injured in the failed attempt to remove Mrs Chucklebutty.

Unfortunately, on entering the house, troops interrupted Mrs Chucklebutty, during an edition of "Cash In The Attic", when she is known to be at her most volatile. She is expected to be charged later for assault and criminal damage to several tanks.

Mrs Chucklebutty puts on a brave smile

She and a Mr Clack from a local key cutting shop, was later spotted outside of the detention centre where her husband is being held, as they mounted a vigil calling for his release. The vigil was however cut short after five minutes when it began to drizzle, at which point she gave a defiant cry of, “oh f*** this for a lark” and they both left.

Under the new anti blogger laws, Chucklebutty can be held for no longer than 42 years before a magistrates order is required to continue the remand period and allow for further questioning.

In the meantime, it has emerged that the impostor Price has recommenced his vile blog site and in an act of defiance to the authorities played a special request song on his radio show in support of Chucklebutty. “I wouldn’t leave My Little Yellow Blog for You”

The song is already being talked about in music circles as potentially reaching this years Christmas number one hundred and seventy eight spot and a cover version is being recorded by Chucklebutty’s alleged favourite band, The Jam.

The Capital Of Custard Blog site has now formally been taken over by the official Custard Bureau and a new author and guide to the remainder of this glorious year in our history has been appointed.

In future, the site will provide a source of serious information and truthful debate about the magnificent programme of events, the wise and careful planning, the triumph of publicity, the strong, accountable and inspirational leadership, the strict and transparent financial control that has been applied to the year, and the final cost to the taxpayer.

The people of this great city will welcome and rejoice in the additional cost to their council tax bills and the cuts in their services. The people will see this as their very own contribution to Capital of Custard year, ensuring that all of our citizens are or have the opportunity to be involved. Assuming we can ever collect the council tax.

This Blog site has now been handed over to our newly appointed author, who will now produce a genuine Official Guide to Liverpool Capital of Custard 2008. A man with a heart as big as Liverpool a truly big hearted author and a much loved son of the city, Mr Arthur Askey.

Hello Playmates!

You all know me, big hearted Arthur they caaaaall me, Ayethenkyou. Well I dunno playmates, most of this goes over my head, here, less of that now. As you know, I’ve been in the business since eighteen hundred and frozen to death, I have worked with all the greats Houdini, Blondini, MacEIllhinie, I even remember Little Titch, long before he was knighted and ran off with all the knights takings. He was one of those acts that used to come on stage and prance about in ridiculously over sized heels while he raked himself a fortune.

But what a marvellous and well managed year this has been, it says here. Thanks to the vision of our next Lord Mayor…who? You’re joking. Ey, somebody’s having a laugh here. I'm Big-hearted Arthur not big halfwit Arthur, you don’t expect me to say this tripe do you? No, no, no, I’ll just do the Bee song and I’m off. No you’ll have to get somebody else, try Jeffrey Archer, he could be your Mayor as well.

Ayethenkyou .

The Bee Song http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=2rpBAZEVHmI

BBC (Boiled British Custard) Newsnight Review of 2008, Simon Throttle, Diddy The Moocher and The Last Orders

Newsnight Review Panel

By Jove Missus, I have just watched Friday’s Newsnight Review live from our very own Capital of Custard, and presented by the always delicious, Kirsty Paxman.

He really does look lovely in a frock, totally convincing. You’d never believe it was him. But I have to tell you, I was not happy with the content. The content of the programme I mean, not the frock, well it depends on how far he has gone I suppose…. (edit this bit, note from Mrs C, it’s not Paxman, it’s the woman from the Antiques Show, who was married to David “Barking Hunt” Dickinson, she thinks, unless it’s Gavin Dressler)

You decide!

So anyway, as usual the city was let down by the BBCs choice of interviews with the man in the street, some of whom, even I could tell, were obviously women! In fact some were not in the street at all, they were on a boat! You just can’t trust the BBC anymore. Where do they find these people to interview? One woman said that for her, the highlight of the year was now being able to shop at the new Debenhams! Well I suppose they do have a very good wool counter.

There have been many memorable events that I would have been happy to list for Kirsty, if I could recall them. Where’s me programme? Ah, by Jove yes, there was the erm, Klimt Eastwood Exhibition, Dusty Creamfields, or The Chas and Dave Festival, the squirty spider thing with those French buggers who wouldn’t get up in the morning, the magical mystery Paul Daniels' Anfield Concert, The return of Tall Chips, we had the chance to Design a Lovely Bench for Oldham and the various charity executive marathon runners in the 240k, 340k 500k. They raised a huge amount for their personal charities.

By Jove what athletes they were, being able to run carrying all that weight.

No not you Nadia, good heavens no, it’s pointless you running anywhere again. Well not unless it’s running up a slate at Sayers. Now that’s what I call a Credit Munch! But God bless you madam for doing all you can to keep them in business, even if you are still a toxic bundle.

There is still so much more to come in Custard year before the cancelled closing ceremony which has been labelled The Custav Skint Exhibition, and there will be a big pantomime finale as we bid farewell to the Chuckle Brothers. That’s being organised by the Standards Board so there should be enough money left for the stamp. Yes we will all miss Wally and Dickie Mint, and now their agent may even retire with them. That hasn’t been confirmed as yet, but Mr Harbottle tells me an email has been sent.

But anyway Missus, the Newsnight Review on Grotty Cash spent far too much time on other things. Most of the first half was spent discussing the new cinema version of Birkenhead Revisited and if the actor playing Softbastian was as good he was on the telly. That was all lost on me, I get all these serials confused - Jewel In The Crowd, Massage to India, Up the Elephant and Round the Castle - I suppose it's because Charles “my boomerang wont come back" Dance was in all of them.

I prefer the more genteel sagas I think, like Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Coathanger Abbey and of course Anfield Park. Of course the author, Ethel Austen, was from Liverpool you know, by Jove yes! She did other action stuff for the telly as well. The Persuasions, remember that? Lord Brett Sinclair and Tony Curtains? Marvellous.

They spoke to that Simon Throttle who used to be conductor at the Phil. He annoyed me with that Harry Enfield Scouser wig. A word of advice, just because you are playing in an Oompah band in Berlin now, don’t be coming back here trying to be funny at Liverpool's expense. For one thing, it doesn’t work without the moustache and for your information Mr Throttle, the saying is "Calm Down-Calm Down" not "Ohh Sibelius-Sibelius" Sounded more like Dick Emery.

Anyway what are you doing in Berlin? They’re the buggers who dropped that bomb in my back garden. Ask them about reparations for me will you?

I suppose I should go easy on him, after all he did pay me a huge personal compliment with his musical choice, Wagner’s Buttyjammerung. What a lovely gesture. It certainly made me embarrassed about the gesture I made when he walked on. Really though, he should have picked another ring piece as I think it is still too early for The Twighlight of The Blogs. Although it won’t be too long before Libdemmerung. It is a shame they didn’t use the opportunity to get a dig in at Professor Rednose of Brookside and his ridiculous appointment as Chair of the World Aquarium and Bughouse, by performing Wagner’s The Flying Grossman. The Review panel didn’t know what to make of Throttle night either. Mind you Missus, I felt the same way about the review panel.

I have to say Missus, that Newsnight review is not as good without a comic turn from Tom Paulin. He always had us in stitches, writhing on his chair and wringing his hands and sobbing over the way Trevor Nunn’s latest production at the National had given… Aunt Aggie a submissive role in her relationship with Desperate Dan, losing much of the pathos from the original writing and the intrusive and unnecessary modernity in the replacement of the Cow-pie - a very central masculine metaphor for the desire to consume the mothers womb - with a crate of Stella. Well something like that.

Anyway, on the panel we had Frankie goes to Hollyoaks, front man, Jolly Johnstone and Liverpool actor and star of Vision-on Tony Hart, who seemed to be struggling with three accents and a prop hat. The woman who was on the original Custard awards panel was also on but I can’t remember her name - she looks like Mariella Frostbite. Last of all, some film director who didn’t like the Eric’s and Ernie show at the Everyman saying he hated the songs but then recommended the show, which seemed a bit pointless since it’s a musical! Must have been worried about his fee. But really! Who can’t resist singing along with Bring Me Sunshine? They all seemed to have difficulty with the action for Eric’s and Ernie being set around two old men sitting in deckchairs but nevertheless, said it was still nice to be out.

Frankie said he couldn’t stand the first half of Throttles gig at the Philharmonic and had only gone hoping to see the man pop up with the big organ and then see a film. They all got fed up at the end they said when Throttle kept coming back on stage, milking it, as they were trying to get their coats on and get to the pub for last orders.

Speaking of pubs, Missus, the panel was less than positive about modern Architecture, when they went to see the new Le Cainsboozer Exhibition in the crypt.

Well let me tell you, that The Booze Brothers has been one of the most successful theatrical productions Liverpool has ever seen, even more than Educating Peter. And Michael Caines was in that too! They should do the Booze Brothers for Christmas,

Sir Diddy could return as the Mini-Moocher.

I do love the theatre, settling into your seat as the house lights go down, so long as that Joe Riley doesn’t keep me awake with his snoring. I am very much looking forward to the forthcoming production of King Lear, and very excited about the fact that it will star one of our finest actors in the title role as Larry King, yes missus, none other than the marvellous Pete Postgate. He of course was the man who played Mr Pogle in collaboration with Ivor Wood in the 1960s “Pogles Wood”. I think Judi Dentures was Mrs Pogle and Richard Harris was Plant. (a bit too fond of the Billberry Wine I recall) I hear a rumour that Dame Judi may be re-united with him for the play in the role of daughter, Des D’Oconnor.

Yes we are still awash with events to come and still whitewashing the rest.

For me now I think the wonderful Mr Pete Wylie from The band Yer Wha? has recently made the greatest contribution to 2008 which is probably far more representative of the views of Liverpool people and captures the culture and spirit of the city. I am talking of course about his engaging new song, “The Day that Margaret Thatcher dies”

Now some people have used the words cruel and distasteful, well they are absolutely right. She was! Let’s hope it gets to number one for Christmas. Mind you missus, if there is an afterlife, just imagine the look on Denis’ face when he sees her heading towards him….through the flames.

So Custard lovers, don’t ever let anybody tell you that Grotty cash won’t remain a Capital for Custard long after 2008. There is a popular phrase that has been used many times to describe this year. People have usually associated it with Mr Ricky Tomlinson, but I can now confirm that following my own academic research, studying and translating ancient Greek texts that the phrase was actually coined by the lady who modelled for great artist Michaelangelo, whilst working on the Venus De Milo -

“ Sculpture? My arms!”

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye

(Be Nice to each other)