Professor Chucklebutty's official guide to Liverpool Capital of Custard, 2008

The run up to and complete guide to Liverpool Capital Of Custard. The Storeys behind the scenes and the life and times of Jasper Harbottle

2009-06-20T22:15:00.000+01:00

I did it my way...says ex Chief Exec of the Custard Company Jasper Harbottle

The most accurate - ish account of the politics and intrigues around Grotty Cash's Year in the headlights as European Capital of Custard 2008. The Rise and Fall of Jasper Harbottle, Stunned Fish, the influence of Sir Diddy and Wally Bradlow's Gang. But despite them all...we got through it, thanks to Professor Phil Rednose saving the day...so he tells everyone. Where's his bench by the way?
The Archived collection of posts is at the foot of the page. Read on and learn yerself Culture.

This is also the closure of the blog to Celebrate Capital Of Custard 2008 but fear not, you can still keep up to date with;

Professor Chucklebutty's Liverpool

Political & Cultural Chronic Calls

New for 2009 the legacy years start now!

follow the link below.
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Transfusion and Legacy as 2008 forced to close down due to the credibility crunch all hopes are on 2009 and the return of Brookside

2009-01-13T21:43:00.006Z

By Jove Missus, it’s all over bar the shovelling! As thousands rush to throw Rednose into the canal link to celebrate the official “Transfusion.” So-called after all of the bloodsuckers and parasites that milked the year for every fluid ounce of chardonnay and hard cash they could squeeze out of it.

Oh but I am not going to be negative, that’s not like me, I am in a celebratory mood in fact I am tickled missus yes tickled by the success of our year in the headlights.

2008 European Capful of Custard. A glorious chapter in the history of Grotty Cash, that will be remembered in council tax bills for years to come. Of course I’m no longer under contract to the Custard Company to provide my in depth analysis but felt it important that I pay tribute to those who didn’t make it happen and look forward to the future. Incidentally, as my loyal readers will both be aware, I was paid off through the Sayers sponsorship with 200,000 sausage rolls, since my actual salary for this was £3.98 per entry that is a massive investment in the city’s economy of £900million pounds when you add up all the cultural visitors to Sayers in 2008.

Forget the fireworks, and the light show; the climax for me was the long awaited limerick from Reggie McCough. Although I think it was amended on the night.

As the curtain falls off on two thousand and eight
For certain, the town wants to calculate
The passing of a 125 million pounds blown
As most of the greedy outsiders have flown.
“We won the Capital of Culture prize
and on our cash they tried to capitalise
The vultures, who plucked the Liver birds
Who had no clue about music, art and words.
“City of cover-ups where truth has been slain
Melting the facts with the fiction again
We’ll slam the door shut, with a cheer that is hearty
And sing when we’re rid of the Scouse Lib Dem Party.”
______________________

Last week also saw the arrival in Liverpool of Prime minister Mr Gordon Blimey who was clearly in the mood to celebrate, having brought with him his entire drinks cabinet. They all met up in the Bad News Bar to try and get some cash out of Professor Rednose, with Andy Barmy, the Custard Secretary tasked with thinking of something to compensate Lord Brookside for the lack of a Knighthood.

The exciting announcement that our very own Lord Rednose is to head a panel of highly self important experts on very little who will decide every four years which British city can ladle itself as a city of custard was met with stifled guffaws from the assembled audience and horror by civic leaders nationally at the thought of him ever visiting.

Of course one man who wasn’t laughing, was little Wally Bradlow the leader of the council who was locked out by security on Rednose’s instructions and was left to sit alone outside on the cold step, sobbing “ I am only a simple fireman” when a cruel passer by said, “well put that out then” stubbing a cigarette out on his head.

By the way missus, for all you people who mocked the good professor for his scruffy appearance, I was shocked to recently discover that he is not a multi millionaire living in Frodsham but is in fact a vagrant living under Tarpaulin. No wonder he came up with the idea of designing a bench for Liverpool, somewhere for him to have a kip.

Another man who wasn’t laughing (he only did that on the way to the bank) during the visit by the cabinet and who was also not on the invite list was our very own Sir Diddy Henshaw. Seen here watching the proceedings on Wicked TV.

As you know missus, Sir Diddy and I used to be very close - well I had to stoop down a bit – and it was of course Sir Diddy with his finger in so many pies who was crucial in getting us the year of custard. But Sir Diddy was cruelly driven out of the city before he could rake himself an even greater personal fortune. The last time I saw him was on that NHS you tube comedy video with him giving advice about healthy living, there he was looking like a pillowcase full of condemned meat, talking about obesity. How he kept a straight face I’ll never know.

The saddest loss for me during 2008 was Lloyd Goosefat. Anyone who can cook a gourmet sausage through the keyhole has my utmost respect and as chair of our museums and sculleries I had great confidence in their future as a tourist attraction.

Now of course we have Mr and Mrs Rednose running them. No doubt the Walker Art Gallery will soon get rid of the pre-Raphaelites and have the Grange Hill exhibition and start replacing Turner with Tucker, Rembrandt with Bobby Grant, Holbein with Holly Oaks and dump Rodins’ The Kiss, for Brookies first Lesbian Kiss.

Yes, the quantity surveyor from Huyton, whose cultural contribution to the art world has been a kids telly programme that had minor rude bits in which made it a hit, and a soap opera, that in spite of some talented writers and actors (Jimmy Corkhead excluded) created some of the worst scouse stereotypes ever seen. Sadly both cancelled.

The pretend Professor, I am sorry to say, is the legacy the powers that be wish to impose upon us. Or he will be unless the real arts organisations, artists, writers and performers of Merseyside come together to keep genuine culture alive and growing in the city, just the way they did for 2008, and saved the city from the near disaster at the hands of Custard Company, the City leadership and the scouse wedding usher.

Now showing at the Odious Cinema and Everywhere
The Legacy Films present: The Culture Vultures

But anyway missus, back to lighter things. I simply cannot conclude the year of Custard without mentioning perhaps the most spectacular event on the streets during the entire year.

When the whole city was brought to a standstill by the amazing spectacle of La Princess, the grotesque hairy-legged creature that stalked the city streets. Yes, Princess Anne opening the Liverpool One shopping area.

Now some people were disappointed that London had the other thing with the big ears but I can tell you, when we got up close and the Princess stuck her head through our car window, it was a moment that my young niece will never forget.

And we will never forget our year as European Capital of Custard, as we hand over the laurel and hardy wreath to our guests, the new holders of the prestigious title (pictured left) from the Transylvanian City of Suk and the Bavarian City of Byte, lets hope they are free from the kind of bloodsuckers that almost wrecked it for us.

So ladies and gentlemen, as the year is concluded, so is my own little contribution to this capital of custard.

Unless anything amazing happens, like the standards board for England publishing the findings on the Wally Bradlow investigation or there is any scandalous behaviour or cover-ups from our local leadership, or the disgraced JackaStorey becomes Mayor in 2009, or Liverpool Direct continues to bleed the city coffers dry after march or the Lib Dems remain in power…so you never know.

In which case I’ll probably be back next week then. Somebody will have to change the title though!

How about Professor Chucklebutty’s Official Guide to Liverpool Capital of Custard 2008 and beyond or the Legacy years.

Before I go, I wish to congratulate all those of you who worked to make the year a success and also say thank you to those who gave me so much material. You owe it all to yourselves and nobody else.

And a special thank you to a couple of people in particular on the local parish council.

And so I end with some pictures of just a few of the stars of 2008 I haven’t mentioned this time. (Sobs into pair of Missus Chucklebutty’s Bloomers – realises what they are and runs to the kitchen for some swarfega)

Be Nice to each other!

The good and the great of 2008

Bryan Grain of the NWDAFT

Donald Duckinson of the first train out when there was trouble

DrAculaHinney of Liverpool Direct Debit

Conductor Sir Simon Throttle arriving at the Phil

Mr La De Da Gunner Stilton Chief of Executive of Undercover Operations

The next Mayor of Grotty Cash Muck Storeyteller

And once more to play us out, Sir Simon Throttle conducting the Royal Liverpool Philredmondic Orchestra in the anthem for 2008
All the Money's Gone.

This is also the closure of the blog to Celebrate Capital Of Custard 2008 but fear not, you can still keep up to date with

Professor Chucklebutty's Liverpool

Political & Cultural Chronic Calls

New for 2009 the legacy years start now!

follow the link below.

http://profchucklebuttychronic.blogspot.com/

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye!

and Hello Chronic Calls.

Blog Standard Pantomime, Dickie Mint found guilty. Harshest sentence ever imposed on the city- he is still set to be Lord Muck for 2009

2008-12-17T22:16:00.005Z

By Jove Missus! Following the publication by the Ironing Board for England of the result of their investigation into my former friend and colleague Dickie Mint, I come to you eating a large portion of humble pie, with a good helping of custard of course.

I may have inadvertently contributed to suggestions that Dickie Mint may have discussed with the press the ticky dodger of Mr Jasper Harbottle, erstwhile Executive Custard Creamer of the Custard Company. But only because I read it on some vile blog site, oh and in the newspapers and heard about it on the radio.

All I can say in my defence is that it was another error of judgement on my part to have ever mentioned it and I have written a letter of apology to somebody else in the hope that they may pass it on. The whole episode has caused deep distress to Mrs Chucklebutty, my good friend Mr Clack from the key-cutting shop and heel bar, (mind you, I wouldn’t risk taking a pair of shoes into him, he’ll throw them back at you refusing to handle something off of your stinking feet. I don’t know why he has the heel bar, it’s just an excuse to abuse customers) even our tortoise Bernstein has retreated into his shell during this sad and sorry episode. As you can see, she is still overfeeding him.

Now I now just want to put it all behind somebody.

Yes missus despite the work of dark shadows - I told Hank Marvin to lay off the sun beds – and the scurrilous blogs*ites running a smear campaign against a decent, honest and upstanding (usually in front of the standards board) man, I am delighted to see that Dickie Mint OAF, the current Deputy Lord Muck of Grotty Cash has, as far as he is concerned, been completely exonerated, apart from on the technicality of his guilt and that he consistently denied everything including his name at the first hearing. He has quite rightly made reference to the smear campaign against him by the evil blog sites that sprung up during his other appearances before the Ironing Board, when he was again found guilty of bringing his office into disrepute and forced to resign as leader.

The Evil Cobble blogs initially gave an account of his battle with the evil Sir Diddy, who, allegedly, with the assistance of some stool pigeons tried to launch a coo against him and blackmail him from office. Mind you, Dickie seemed to quite like the evil blog sites then, in fact so did current leader Wally Bradlow, who demanded an enquiry into who ordered them to be banned from council and public library computers.

Since those heady days of course, the vile suggestions of cock-ups, waste, pay-offs, dodgy contracts, financial mismanagement and cover-ups, or even the accusations that he discussed personal and private matters with a member of the press from the Oldham Chronic have continued to appear.

So I trust that tonight, a certain Mr Toby Porridge47 or however old he is, of the so-called Liverpool Bus-shelter blog spot, amongst others, will all hang their heads in shame given that almost all of their accusations and stories have been comprehensively proved to be accurate.

So disgracefully accurate have their personal attacks and exclusives been in recent months, that Dickie has now decided that they will certainly get no stories from him. And for my part ladies and gentlemen, I shall certainly not be making any further jocular comments on this disgraceful site. This city is not at home to Mr Truth!

These people have had the audacity to drag through the mud the good names of honest individuals such as Dickie and fellow Executive Bumbler, Steve Herpes, with the most foul accusations, such as lraking personal information to the press and then organising a cover up of the actual course of events, raiding the budget for the Meryll Streep festival for a pet project and then setting up a fall guy to get nailed for the resulting international headline fiasco.

They even accused Mr Herpes of breaking the law around the Representation of the People Act, by posting vindictive, cowardly, and anonymous leaflets being through letterboxes, whilst wearing a riduculous disguise. Even the leader was accused of demanding free tickets to a Las Vegas show at the expense of the council taxpayer for him and his missus. Outrageous smears!

Just because these appalling and wicked allegations have all been proven to be correct, this does not excuse such underhand tactics as telling the truth. These so-called bloggers have had every opportunity to present their concerns openly through the proper channels, where a team of experts are on hand to professionally cover them up or completely ignore them. This would have been the proper course of action for the city and avoided any embarrassment. If only they could follow the fine example of our "Voice of Murkeyside" the Oldham Echo, and have just kept quiet about it all.

What a terrible way to treat people who, after all are only trying to look after themselves, is that a crime now? It is not enough to just put this down to -in the words of the bard- 'the stringy marrows of outrageous fortune'

My harp really goes out to the likes of Dickie, Wally and Mr Herpes. Why do they do they put up with it? They only want to serve the interests of the people of this fine city, in selfish public service, why suffer the indignities and personal attacks heaped upon them? Constantly being made to look like incompetent idiots.

I really don’t know but I can assure you, forget what the cynics say, it is nothing to do with ego, power or self importance or even receiving their full time salaries along with the additional expenses of over £9,000 per year as a councillor plus another £13,000 as an Executive Bumbler or another £6,000 if a mate and pretending to be a deputy Executive Bumbler or that if you happen to be leader, an additional £9,000 plus £20,000 on top of your normal salary.

It is not even all the free tickets for sports events and shows for themselves and their families and friends or all of the trips abroad, such as visits to Shanghai, our twin city to see if they know where we are, or trips to New York for a week to see how they managed with the public smoking ban, or a week in Cannes on a yacht to promote Grotty Cash. No, no, no! Good heavens you’d be exhausted after all that, and then to come back home to criticism or people constantly moaning. No. They do it because they care. They do it for us. Well they must do. It’s us that are paying for them.

Well I hope now that this will bring to an end the recent sad state of affairs and that we can get on with running this city properly and creating the kind of wealth and opportunity needed for Dr Rottlweiller and Liverpool Direct to completely bleed us dry.

I sincerely hope that our Leader, Wally Bradlow, can now get on with running the city into the ground that has been the foundation for our rebirth.

Yes I know there is still a little matter facing him in relation to that Mr Harbottle (again) and the meetings that he never had with Mr Lee Fallguy, and the texts he never sent, the emails he never sent, the comments he never made and the Peroni he didn't drink. Oh, and the denial he made and then the denial of having never made a denial….or something like that. And of course as we now know, courtesy of the report by Mr Gullible, from the Standards Board, Dickie Mint was only there at the meeting that never happened, that he'd never attended, that never took place -oh sorry that one - just doing some part time work as a waiter and sessional support worker for stressed council employees that had been publicly scapegoated in a stitched up report to deflect any criticism from him. But once that is all sorted - and I am confident that Wally will also be cleared of any right doing - we can get on with establishing the legacy for 2009 under his perspirational and passion fruit leadership. I hear the national press can't wait for the finale and intend to give us some in depth coverage and publicity.

Moving on now to a happier announcement- No not the Knightshirt for Professor Rednose – I am talking about the new head of Custard for the city, to take us into the 2009 legacy!

I wondered how I could best convey my joy at this appointment and thought what better than to pick a phrase or one from her very own Dictionary of Superlatives.

The brilliantly brilliant appointment of the brilliantly successful and brilliant organiser for the brilliant custard opening ceremony that got this brilliant year off to such a brilliant start, with the brilliant night at the brilliant St Georges Hall with the shite Ringo Star and his shite song……..hang on a minute……oh no that’s right.

Yes none other than the former left foot to Jasper Harbottle, Ms Clara MeCogloose has been named as our new Custard Queen. Actually MeCogloose is not her proper name, it is just a silly nickname given to her due to the crazy half-baked schemes that cost a fortune before being abandoned and attempts made to cover up the waste of your cash. Events like dredging Sefton Park Lake for an aborted Sonia Concert, The Sound of.......ooohh - Livvepule " and freezing the Mersey for an evening with Patricia Routledge on Ice (until they found out she was from Birkenhead and then thought fouquet) Yes Clara's proper name is actually McCogloose, so it is time this juvenile silliness was stopped and we gave the woman some support. Bring Jasper Harbottle back, that should do it.

But who knows, with most of the freeloading canapé and chardonnay guzzlers clearing off now that the gravy train has crashed, and there is nothing left for them to siphon off, she may even be able to make a go of it. I really hope so.

Take my advice, if anybody tries to throw a spanner in the works, grab it and use it to tighten that cog! You have to have some sympathy for her. Just think of having to sit and listen to Professor Phool Rednose and keep a straight face, pretending to be interested in his rambling cliche ridden claptrap and agreeing with how he is without doubt the saviour of 2008 and Culture Supremo for Grotty Frodsham. it must be hard to listen to him, knowing that he did nothing for five years he is now taking and being given all the credit. I think he must have bribed them all with signed photos of Harry Cross and Ralph.

Well alright, I will give him some credit, he did capture the imagination of the city with the design a bench competition, what a shame all the entries were all left on display on bonfire night.

Well Clara, the boot is on your left foot now. You should apply all your force and energy into putting that boot as hard as you can into the Custard Supremo's scouse wedding tackle. Good luck missus!

And finally, three cheers for Cilla and our own Les Dennis for ending the year with what is generally agreed to be a genuinely brilliantly brilliant show at the empire. (thanks for that line Clara)

Should I decide not to run for elected mayor (although it depends if Foghorn Leggarty ever comes out from hiding to kick-start my campaign) I've decided to forget about supporting Herbert. There is only one person suitable in my book to run the city.

I am now switching my allegiance to the warm and lovable Les Dennis, a true son of the city and a talented and versatile performer. Yes Les would get my vote as Mayor and what a splendid ambassador he would be for Liverpool a man who is held in great affection, or so our survey said. But unlike the current lot, I am sure that Les is a man who when asked a difficult question that he could not answer would not resort to lies or just say the first stupid thing to come into his head, but that he would have the honesty and integrity to say "I dooon’t really knooooow!" And that would be a major step forward for the city we love.

Hmmmmm, nice! Better Les than the whoopsie on the carpet we are going to get.

Come on Foghorn, what better opportunity could you ask for to promote the campaign for an Elected Mayor?

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye !

Be Nice to each other

The Fire fighters Games! Game set and match at number one court. The 3 Miserable pleaders. Reggie McGough Digs deep and Flo feels wind of change!

2008-12-01T10:30:00.010Z

By Jove Missus! Justice at last. Finally the vicious brute Steve Cursed, who was caught red handed trying to shove our respected ex Mayor, Lady Dorian Jones through a letterbox in Belle Vale has been brought to justice.

It had become known as the Cinderella trial, due to the only clue to his identity being the baseball cap with his name in it, left behind as he ran from the Royal Balls-up back to the fat pumpkin pulled by rats - Wally Bradlow.

Well, if the cap fits.

The Fairly Odd Mother aka Jackastorey, Wee Wally Bradlow himself and another man known only as Fat Colin with the burst buttons, appeared in court as shady character witnesses for Mr Cursed. In fact it was probably this that finally damned him.

In a bizarre twist to the case, Lady Noreen even appeared as a witness for the defence and tried to back up Cursed’s claim that he was in fact trying to pull her out of the letterbox, rather than shove her through, when he was suddenly jumped on from behind by three Lap dancers or Lion tamers, he couldn't’ be sure.

It has now emerged that the happy picture that recently appeared in The Oldham Chronic, of Wally Bradlow and Lady Doyenne's husband, Sir Tricky Jones - smiling in mutual admiration and supposedly marking his 130 years as a Chandler, was a smoke screen, hiding the fact that Sir Clever was in reality being held hostage in

order to force Lady Windowlene to take the stand as a character witness.

How Bradlow can you stoop, I ask myself?

But was Cursed alone in organising the plot to discredit the opposition by leaving a twice ex Mayor of Grotty Cash on the hall carpet of the local voter? ( it's usually a small turnout) Claiming they used her as a draft excluder. That is the question now being asked.

It seems that Mr Cursed used the same pink Andrex paper for the phoney leaflet - that was tucked into Her Ladyships vest - as they use for all their Election leaflets. Most recently it was used in the campaign to stop people parking their cars on an inebriated Richard Clamp in the Church Ward.

So did Cursed break into the Glib Dum HQ on Meltdown Road, and run the pink leaflets off himself? It has been suggested that he may have had a teacher with him to help with the spelling, a fat bloke to hold the door shut and an additional fireman to make the tea.

Although police forensics were unable to find a sample of Councillor Cursed’s hair in the Baseball cap or on his head for that matter, his arrival in court wearing half a pair of sunglasses and the other half appearing as exhibit 'A' began to cast doubt on his innocence even before he started to lie through his teeth.

When the prosecution pointed out that even his lying teeth were false, the deputy Mayor, Councillor Jackastorey, tried to climb out of the courtroom window. Fortunately, Wally Bradlow, pulled him back to safety but then got into a fight with Fat Colin, as they both tried to climb out instead.

The witnesses for the defence

So following the guilty verdict, will they now have a whip round between them to pay the £500 fine and the £700 costs or will they get the Custard Company to pay claiming it was a Court room drama event. Will Cursed be sacked and kicked out of the party, and if that happens, is there a risk that he could implicate others? Was he the lone postman or was there another dum man on the grassy knoll?

To her credit, Lady Davina, as ever, maintained a dignified silence until she left the courtroom and then set about them with her handbag, calling them a bunch of f***ing clowns.

What a disgrace that she should have been dragged into this after her years of service to the party and Grotty cash. Lying to and conning an elderly lady.

Anyway, I look forward to the Oldham Echo headlines,

.“Leading Lib Dem Councillor donates £1200 to fight against crime in Liverpool”

But enough of that low life and lets get back to high custard.

Great news that Professor Rednose of Brookyoaks, could be up for a new years honour. Yes if all goes well, we will have to call him Sir Phyllis next year. Which can be very unpleasant so I hear.

I do hope he gets that hair cut before he goes to the palace. We don’t want the Queen to get nits. She has enough already what with Charles and Harry. I left William out because he is going bald like his father whereas Harry has a good strong head of hair- well baldness is hereditary.

Rednose of course is still tasked with organising the closing Karaoke Ceremony for Capital Of Custard. I am not sure how the night will go but it could be perfect for Wally and Jackastorey, as it is being assisted by a company called Walk the Plank.

As usual, the guest list is a surprise, which means that they are still checking the availability of the winner or 103rd runner up from the Grotty Cash Eggs factor talent-less competition. There will be the usual rocket in a milk bottle firework and, we hope, the long awaited 08 poem from Reggie McGough. (pictured below)

I was particularly impressed by Reggie’s most recent poem that celebrated our much-loved local Solicitor and first citizen of Liverpool, Sir Rex Hesperus, and his frustration over the disruption caused by The Big Dig. Here is Reggie's poem.

The Big Dig

By Reggie McGough

Who said the streets was paved with gold?
I think it’s time that we were told

And if that’s why we’ve all put up
With half the city being dug up?

They drilled into our very soul
And everywhere you look – a hole

And when they finish, crowds of men
Come and dig it up again

To lay new cable or new pipes
that adds to all the drivers’ gripes

In Whitechapel, a man called Rex
fell down one hole and ripped his kecks

Rex took his case to court and found
outside his office, no legal ground

I’m sorry Rex, the Judge did say
They’ve taken all your grounds away

He left the court beyond console
And fell into another hole

Unwilling to accept defeat
In the case of Rex ex parte Street.

So he’ll go to court another day
If only he can pave the way.

*****

Now of course the other news at the moment, is that they are advertising for a compere for the 08 closing semolina night. And what have they done? Excluded the obvious choice through ageism, that's what! No, no not me, I’m keeping well away from the Pier Head from now on. Nobody told me they had built a bloody canal! Head first I went. Fortunately my fall was broken by a load of Netto shopping trolleys and a mattress.

Anyway I will be too busy planning my campaign for the Wavertree by-election.

But I do think that restricting the compere search to somebody between the ages of 30 and 60 is an outrage. One of our greatest treasures has been excluded, in fact apart from his lecture night on The Council Comedy Greats, Custard year has made little use of one of my personal heroes, our beloved and perhaps greatest star. I am talking of course about Mr Ken Dodd. The Squire of Pebble Dash, as he is known.

It is a real place you know!

Do you know, people often tell me that I am the spitting image of him? Usually people with a lisp who spit all over me while they are talking. That must be where the expression comes from. I suppose once you wipe the spit off, I do have a passing resemblance. (When he was younger of course)

Left: Doddy Right: Me

The real problem is that Doddy never does less than nine hours and the Custard Company was skint before Klimt. This is why all we will end up with is the Singalonginyermacs at the Pier Head. There's only enough money to keep the leccy meter going for half an hour, so Doddy is sadly out of the question.

Well if you decide to go, you had best wrap up warm. There is an icy wind blowing through the chambers of power in Grotty Cash right now, with growing discontent in the ranks.

I saw the leader in waiting, Flo Clucles, the other day and I warned her to watch out.

I said, Winter draws on Flo!

Yes, she said, and I’m still freezing.

And that gag was my audition to compere Karaoke Night.

What’s Les Dennis doing these days? I hope it’s not panto with the impostor.

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye!

Be nice to each other.

******

Marking over 10,000 discerning reader hits or possibly 3 readers with repetitive strain injury from hitting the wrong key or they are tapping out an SOS.

Ask not for whom the Jingle Bells toll, Custard comes to the boil for Bradlow & Dickie Mint - Hurst makes it a hat trick. They think it's all over....

2008-11-14T20:30:00.010Z

By Jove Missus. I’m not a number – I’m a free man! As Patrick McGoogle, used to say in The Pensioner.

Yes, I am home again. I’ve been away “at sea” for a few weeks, aboard the HMP Walton, and what a rough passage I had! All those men locked up together by Jove! But enough of that, I’ll save it for the autobiography. I must ask Pete Price who wrote his for him. Mind you there was one cell crammed with 17 women, all named Sue Denham for some reason. I had to put up with them wolf-whistling at me in the shower block, then laughing and calling me a Diddyman, well the water was freezing cold.

So yes Missus, I was released last week to a crowd of waiting reporters (Stinky Ink Bartlett and Larry Knees) Here I am at the news conference speaking to CNN (Crosby News Now)

Like all my appearances, it lasted nearly 12 hours but that included 9 songs. Anyway Missus, I will shortly be publishing my prison memoirs, not that I can remember much. It’s hard to think straight in there, maybe I have blocked my prison hell out of my mind or maybe it was all that crack cocaine, skunk, heroin and alcohol. Some nights I couldn’t find my face to drink the cocoa! But what a very progressive idea to have all that available. Certainly keeps the lads quiet.

I see my good lady did her best to keep up the blog in my absence. I must apologise for her course language. As you know ladies and gentlemen, I’m direct but never blue.

Mr Clack is suing us by the way.

But Mrs C. has redeemed herself with her very own artwork for Capital Of Custard. Here she is in a picture marking the alleged outcome of the investigation into our good friends Wally Bradlow and Dickie Mint, The Storyteller. The picture is titled:

“The Ironing Boards for England Delivers the verdict”

All right so she got a bit mixed up with the Standards Board and the Ironing Board, it often happens - probably why it's taken so long for any announcement - but since so many people will be creased with laughter, it still works.

Anyway, it’s art! It doesn’t have to mean anything.

Better than cutting a donkey in half and shoving it in a fish tank!

It seems it has been a bad week for some of our friends in low places, no wonder they were both looking so down in the mouth at the recent HTV awards. Poor Wally seems to have realised that the game is up and said, “This showbiz life is not for me” Quite right, not unless it’s free tickets for a Las Vegas show on the council tax.

“I am just a simple fireman,” he said. Well we knew that, although I thought you had to be quite bright to be a fire fighter these days. It is a shame though, a young lad like that with Dickie Mint as his role model, it was only ever going to end in tears.

Dickie has now of course gone completely barmy and goes to bed every night in his Lord Mayor pyjamas. He is regularly parading up and down Castle Street with a pair of scissors looking for ribbons to cut and every morning tormenting the local shops asking if he can officially open them.

He’s even made his own chain of office out of Dairy Lea Cheese Triangles. Do we really want this loon meeting all the important visitors who come to Liverpool on official engagements? It was bad enough when we had Clark Kent for mayor with his scary fixed grin frightening the horses.

Poor Wally! If only he had listened to me from the beginning, when I used to sit him on my knee and try to warn him about the naughty boys who would get him into trouble, but all he wanted was for me to sing horsey-horsey and bounce him up and down so instead he ended up being dragged into the gutter by a greasy-head master.
A modern day Hamlet Prince of Primark.

I’ll bet Jasper Harbottle, our former Director of the Custard Company, after seeing what he has done to Wally and Dickie, is probably now shedding a few tears over this, as he rolls about on his hacienda laughing hysterically.

Perhaps Harbottle will return for the closing Custard & Karaoke night with his very own version of the Laughing Policeman.

I know a jolly Fireman; he’s known on Mathew Street,
in charge of brewery piss-ups, a task he can’t complete.
With his friend the Storeyteller, they tried to bring me down
But now I’ve got the bastards I’m the happiest man in town

Whooooooo-ha ha ha hah hah haha ha ha hah ha ha haahhhhh
Whoooooooooooooooooooooo. (etc)

Laughing Policeman http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hI1nPd7hezM

So if all the predictions are right, will there be a power struggle in the Glib Dums, with an outbreak of Flu before Christmas or will it be; simply having a wonderful Christmas Clein? Heaven forbid, the return of the man with the tache and an eye for the cash Tricky Dickie. Does it herald the end altogether for the glib dums?

But hang on, there are people on the patch, they think it’s all over – it is now.

Yes Hurst makes it four, the hero of the hour, no longer on the bench, but up before it. Well ladies and gentlemen, it’s been talked about so often since that glorious day, that controversial third leaflet, did it actually go through the letterbox and if it had been disallowed, would it have affected the final result?

Should the referee have shown him the yellow card or given him a pink one hidden underneath?

In reality, bringing on Nobby Stewart in the final moments of injury time really decided the final result. Apparently, she was asked if she minded having a sub role and said it was okay so long as she could have the twelve inch one and some pies from Sayers as well.

The first time the Jules Rimet trophy had been filled with Oxtail Soup

But now it looks like our good friend Steve Herpes could be in real trouble. The weather has turned quite chilly and I’ve heard that he’s lost his hat somewhere.

He needs to be careful with that head of hair. I must admit he struck me as odd the last time I saw him, walking around with only half a pair of sunglasses on.

http://www.liverpooldailypost.co.uk/liverpool-news/regional-news/2008/11/14/lib-dem-councillor-denies-attempting-to-smear-rival-64375-22254724/

Perhaps it is something to do with colour blindness. But if these broken sunglasses mentioned in court provide conclusive evidence, he could face being Ray Banned for years.

Now according to what they say in the Oldham news sheets, allegedly he can’t tell the difference between Line Dancing and Lap dancing. Well according to my good friend Mr Clack, who is something of an expert on this subject, this is the simplest way to tell the difference;

If the lady has tassels on her shirt and you have a Stetson, it’s Line dancing.
If the lady has tassels on her nipples and you have a hard-on it’s Lap
dancing.

Good heavens Clack! Now don't blame me for that rather crude and explicit explanation.

I know it's a long time since I had a Stetson, not since that weekend break in Viagra Falls.

Maybe Mr Herpes got them both confused with Fireman's Pole Dancing. Look, he's got a front row seat as well !

She looks familiar - is that taken in Croxteth?

Anyway, I'll have no more talk of such sleazy subjects. This is a family blog!

Lap dancing indeed. I don't know why some people are so obsessed with breasts.

Titty bye Everybody…..

I mean; Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty bye

Be nice to each other.

Oh I almost forgot, I came across the rather delightful little song from Allan Smethurst, The Singing Postman. "You can't keep living in the past boy" A lesson for Liverpool?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sy1GGMAzvno

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.

2008-10-21T18:37:00.018+01:00

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!

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.

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.

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.

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!

2008-10-16T20:47:00.035+01:00

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

2008-10-04T11:34:00.028+01:00

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)

Sink or Swim with Pay-offs and Pastry as we get up to our necks in Custard

2008-09-24T11:08:00.012+01:00

By Jove Missus, how very un-tattifilarious I am!

Yes, like the rest of the Custard company staff, I have been told that I am no longer required to provide my illustrious guide after December 31st.

I have tried to explain that this is a guide to Liverpool and that although the by-line is Capital of Custard 2008, that there may be a legacy role for me in 2009.

The only role for you, they said, is a sausage roll.

Well I suppose they have to find something to do with the 2 million provided by Sayers sponsorship in kind. I bet it wasn’t half a million-sausage rolls that they gave to Mr Hasitall. Mind you, they could have tricked him with that; he couldn’t have eaten them with the gagging clause! Why do they never ask my advice first?

What a cheek though, trying to make me redundant, after all I have done to promote this year!

Anyway dear readers, I offer my apologies to you both for my recent absence. I have been locked in negotiations with Mr Stilton and Bradlow to negotiate a proper pay-off. £30 quid and a 2-minute DVD of the highlights was their last offer. “Hasitall has cleaned us out,” they said.

They claim they are skint and there is nothing left for the closing ceremony.

Well I found three bob down the sofa in Stilton’s office when they nipped outside for a Peroni to discuss my future. So I’m having that, by Jove yes!

Now “Honorary” Professor Rednose is said to have pulled the plug on the closing semolina event, although he may still be able to knock together a Sinbad and Jimmy Corkscrew Karaoke session outside Yates’s. He is of course closely connected to the stars of numerous cancelled shows, as well as being Patron of the Frodsham wind ensemble, so I hear. Yes there appeared to be a definite whiff of them during his recent speech.

I’ve told them to just leave the closing ceremony to me and the Sir Diddy’s men, we can cabal something together. I have a spectacular event all ready to go. Very simple and very cheap.

I will place a large inflatable Lambanana in all of the major city buildings, The Town Hall, St Georges Hall, The Municipal Buildings and both Cathedrals. Then we shall fill the buildings with custard. As the devices are inflated the custard will ooze from the windows and fill the streets of Liverpool for the people to engage in a custard festival, like the one they do with tomatoes in Preston or wherever it is, (somewhere foreign).

The metropolitan cathedral will be the finale - no offence to the C 0f E, as this is dictated by the architecture, not the Pope, even if he does love a bit on his rhubarb - custard will burst like a volcano from the wig-wam funnel roof in a great yellow cascade, running down Brownlow Hill to form a giant lake in the town centre. Souvenir spoons will be available from the car boot of my good friend Mr Harbottle, so everybody can dig-in.

Yes I will invite Mr Harbottle back and with a bit of luck he can hand over the envelope to Wally and Dickie Mint with the outcome of the standards board investigation.

The Lambananas will then burst through each roof and rise above the city. Now, here is the clever bit, at the stroke of midnight, the they will explode releasing clouds of nitrous oxide onto the crowds below (laughing gas to you missus, I have tons of it given to me by Tarbuck) and as it begins to take effect, a photographer from the Oldham Chronic will take a picture of all the smiling and laughing faces, heralding the event a huge success.

As they all become unconscious, the 08 ambassadors secret mission will be put into action as they lift every wallet, purse and any jewellery - that isn’t out of the catalogue - from the sleeping crowd. This will be used to plug the deficit! An inspired plan, I am sure you will agree.

I am just waiting for Sir Rex Hesperus to cast a legal eye over it, just in case the gas is too strong and injuries result. It wouldn’t be so bad if everybody carried a Clack Donor Card but we don’t want to end up with severe clack injury and thousands in hospital on a ventittilator.

Speaking of inspired plans, missus, I have been clearing out my drawers recently and discovered a copy of an early suggestion for a 2008 event, posted directly to the Custard company from Hollywood no less!

Inspired by the Capital of Custard award Mel Brookside the well known director of Blazing Squabbles, came up with yet another vehicle for The Producers especially for 2008, but it has just gathered dust in the 08 place
Reading it again this week, I am not sure somebody didn’t lift a few ideas from it without giving him credit. Here is part of it.

Synopsis “The Produseless”
Nervous accountant Leo Blowsitall enters the office of Max Biallystorey to go through the accounts after another financial disaster costing the Municipal Theatre millions. Leo suddenly realises that you could actually make more money out of a sure fire flop than you could from a success and earn yourself huge pay-offs. So the stage is set to create a Capital of Culture fiasco. http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=3ERAV57bqaU

The first thing they need is the worst event programme ever produced.
In a downtrodden Sydney apartment, they find Rubin Archsnits, with her cabaret extravaganza “ Springtime For Stilton” a musical play about the life and times of

Der Cuerhverhauptman Adull Hilton. The script is a complete stinker and they buy it off of her for £340k.

Just to make sure it will flop, they also need the worst director they can find, so they go backstage at the Chorley rep to meet Jessie Harbolero, who enters wearing a bright orange Flamenco dress. Harbolero, agrees to take the job on condition he can sell the T-shirts and ice cream during the interval and spend 3 days a week rehearsing in Spain.

They interview for a leading man to open the show and are delighted to find that one time tank engine commander Bongo Starr is available and desperate to plug his new album, “Liverpool Hate” He can’t sing, he can’t play anything, he can’t wait to get out of Liverpool; They have found their man!

As the opening night arrives and the curtain goes up, they watch as the assembled audience gasp in horror at what they see as the chorus line begins the opening number .

Springtime for Hilton and Liverpool
Winter for you, you poor sap

Financially we’re off the rails
We’re spending with no audit trails

Springtime for jobs if you’re southerners
You wont have to take the rap

Springtime for Hilton and Liverpooooooooool
Where failure’s rewarded by being awarded
Huge pay-offs for being so crap.

Springtime for Hilton and - Don’t be stoopid be a smarty come and join our lib-dum party

Winter for you, you poor - Forced out Jason, stitched up Forde, whoops here comes the Standards Board. Etc.

Delighted by their failure, they retreat to the bar to start working out how big a pay-off each can get. In the meantime the curtain opens for act two and some Lambananas parade onto the stage, followed by a giant spider.

The audience begin to smile and identify with them. Max and the custard company had of course initially taken no interest in the Lambananas and had even talked about writing out the spider due to costs.

The audience pour into the bar, they want to save the Lambananas, they love them, they want to keep the spider, ok most of the rest is crap but there have been some good bits, and in spite of the general incompetence, millions spent and wasted or unaccounted for and the huge deficit, that is the real legacy, this has actually been quite successful. Imagine what it could have been like with competent leaders?

Our heroes shrink in horror.

“We got the wrong programme to start with, the wrong director the wrong leading man…where did we go right?”

“No way out - No way out!”

Cut to our heroes in prison singing “ Prisoners of custard, we all got busted”
Curtain Falls.

Hmmm. Perhaps they were right not to use it. Too far fetched. As we know, they did all get their pay-offs. Well apart from the people who will just get redundancy notices, the ones on the front line of the Custard Company who did the real work, that saved us from total disaster. Oh no sorry, I forgot, it was all thanks to the Custard Supreme, Professor Rednose. I do apologise. My word, a slip like that could cause a scouse divorce - fingers crossed.

But ladies and gentlemen what of the legacy, what can we do to keep the momentum going in 2009?

Well one thing right on our doorstep is the potential for a major new tourist attraction, far better than Williamson’s Tunnels. It appears that there are miles and miles of unexplored apartments right in the heart of the city.

They haven’t been touched or opened up since the day they were constructed by eccentric developers who wanted offer gainful employment to thousands of Cockneys, Geordies, Mancunians and Poles. If we can just persuade the liquidators to open them up to the public I am sure many thousands would come to marvel at how and why they were built.

I used to have a penthouse you know. Unfortunately, the cleaner found it under the bed and showed it to the missus. I only kept it for the article on the Austin Healey gearbox and what to do if your big end keeps going.

Well whatever happens, if they don’t want me after December, I may take up the offer from Editor of the Oldham Echo Mr Alistair Zeta MacShag. He wants me to liven–up the obituaries column and give it a scouse flavour.

I have already suggested re-naming it the Brown-bread Section and Birthday Memoriam to be called, “Well at least I don’t have to buy a pressie”

But between you and me, I am in discussions with Sir Rex, Joe Roley, Laurence of Westphalia, Tom “who did that?” Dowling and Dave Printface, amongst others, to establish a rival evening newspaper that is truly loyal to the people of the city, written and printed in Liverpool, that will creates jobs in the city rather than redundancies for the sake of the Unholy Trinity's profits.

We already have the new title - The Liverpool Echo Cabal - which has a familiar ring to it. Anyway we are looking for a Head of Finance, a Cultural Editor and a Communications Director to complete the winning team.

We have also secured the publishing rights to the popular cartoon strip
“Our Wally” Although it may only be until the end of 2008, after which Andy Capps missus, Flo, may be the new cartoon feature.

How much to Oldham Catherine?

Tatty bye everybody, Tatty bye.

More helpings of Custard as Ironing Board for England leaves Chuckle Brothers on Death Row. Plus Mathew Chas & Dave and spectacular closing semolina

2008-08-21T21:50:00.062+01:00

By Jove, I’m back missus. It’s been a busy week for me. Half the house was accidentally demolished after Mrs Chucklebutty dug up a 2nd World War bomb in the back garden and kept battering it with a shovel to see if it was live.

Yes we had a bit of a fall out over that, just because I left her in a tree for four days, but all is now back to normal. Peace in our time and pieces of the garden throughout the neighbourhood. She was okay when it went off having taken the precaution of wearing earplugs.

Anyway ladies and gentlemen, enough about the home front, which is all that’s left until we rebuild the back, down to the main business.

All of you Custard-Vultures will no doubt be wondering what’s left for 2008 as I turn again to the examine some of the remaining tattyfilarious programme of events.

Of course there will also be the spectacular closing ceremony, to make up for the piss-poor opening one with Bingo Starr and the grand parade of strangers and extras from Brookside.

Speaking of the closing ceremony, it looks like the result of the investigation into the behaviour of our current political leaders by the Ironing Board for England, has been put on hold with them deciding not to announce the guilt (or otherwise) of Messrs Bradlow and Mint until we have ended the year of custard.

They drank all the Peroni (click on links)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m7S_afcpaEU

It seems they wish to spare the city any embarrassment of having our Leader and future Lord Muck bundled out of the town hall under a blanket, at least until Cilla has given her Panto thigh one last slap. Give Pete Price one as well Chuck. ( She calls me Chuck, you know, the cheeky mare)

Step inside Cilla
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHVLwHJNC-0

Surely this uncertainty leaves us with a great cloud - another one - hanging over the city for the rest of the year? If they are innocent, why haven’t they spared us the worry?

But if the Chuckle brothers are guilty of bullying and conspiring against Mr Harbottle and leaking details of his ticky dodger to the press (the Ironing Board doesn’t like the press you know, by Jove) then by not going public, we are potentialy left with people running the city who may now officially be regarded as unfit for office. This risks the end of Capital of Custard year being dominated by front page spreads about the antics of these two, rather than Pete Price’s Ugly sister frock. Although I am sure we’ll be able to read about it in his column for many months after.

What’s even more worrying, is with our “world in one city” slogan, just imagine the damage if a guilty verdict is linked to the colour of Mr Harbottle’s skin!

I have often thought why this brilliantly successful and charismatic young man should have been cruelly held up to ridicule by everyone who has ever come into contact with him or any of his work and why he has been treated so shabbily by Officers and Members with only a £230,0000 pay off.

And then the words of the Civil Blights leader,
The Reverend Doctor Paisley ring in my ear.

“ Is it because I is orange?” I hope I am wrong. But why else would they all take the pith?

Prince Jasper of Orange http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7AN3WLHENY

A guilty verdict could of course have serious implications for the General Postmaster who has been trying to cover up his chronic amnesia after forgetting to send in Harbottle’s complaint.

(Harbottle’s complaint is now officially recognised as an illness. See recent article in The Lancet by Dr Juan Peroni)

I also understand that Executive Board meetings are now called Late Night with Letterman.

But if they've been found guilty, Wally and Mint should go now, then in the remaining months, deputy leader Flo Coupdegras, could work to recapture the spirit of 08, which is currently akin to a bottle of turps in most parts of the city.

On 31st of December, at the closing ceremony, she could regale us on the steps of St George’s Hall with her Dance of the Seventy Million Veils. Recreating the council X-factor winning routine with her and Dr Rotweiller as Ginger Rogers and Freddy Kruger. Nightmare on Dale Street

The Doc dumps Flo for a blonde http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QccO0pvSqgU

What a spectacular that would be, lit by the glow of the stunning 3 inch Catherine wheel nailed to a stick and with the moonlight catching the ceremonial milk bottle to launch the Legacy Rocket as it soars over 12 feet into the night sky with a mighty phhzsst proclaiming,

“ is that it then?”

But let’s try and forget about them for now and concentrate on the great events still to come. Next weekend of course is a second chance to see last years Mirthew Street Festival, when fans will be coming from as far as Chorley and Wrexham (the only train service running) to celebrate musical Merseyside and of course central to the festival is The Fab Four, that’s right, Herman’s Hermits. Visitors will arrive at Peter Noone International Airport “Above us only Mrs Browns lovely daughter” The dirty hermit.

Mrs Brown's http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lv8k0VI9tBc
Something good http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=evpMKx5nrfY

Arrangements have been made to ensure visitors are immediately fleeced by cab drivers, driven to Runcorn Bridge to arrive in the city centre via the Kingsway Tunnel 5 hours later.

Why hasn’t anybody ever thought of having a tram connection like other cities? That Marie Celeste South Parkway Station that cost millions is miles away from the airport, why not just stay on the bus to Lime Street? It’s the transport equivalent of the pub with no beer - the station with no passengers, just tumbleweeds and a ticket clerk who has gone mad through isolation, he thought life would improve after 15 years in the Lighthouse, the poor man. Built to handle the tens of thousands flocking through from the airport, no expense has been spared apart from on platform seating and any shelter to protect you from gale force wind and driving rain.

The sign says:
Welcome to Liverpool.
What did you come to Parkway for soft lad?
You’d have been better going into town.
You can’t even get a cuppa tea here.
Yer norra Cockney or a woolly are ya?
Who you looking at, knob head?

Actually I think everything after the first line, was added by Jimmy McGovern, in felt tip. When he gets the muse, he has to write it down you know.

But anyway missus, this year the festival should be amazing with the headline act bound to bring in the huge crowds being none other than, scouse cockney band Chas & Dave. Yes Mr Cole and Dr Rottwieller will open the event with their hit song “Rob-it, Rob-it”.

They will also be attending an opening banquet with the Lord Mayor, dining on Jellied Cuban eels a la diddy, stunned salthouse fish, fresh from our very own docks and all sorts of seafood to reflect our maritime history. In fact the banquet is being held at one of the fishiest establishments in town, The 08 Plaice. Free parking will be available for guests of honour.

Fresh Fish Blues http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AATtz__l9S8

LDL Test http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmzodvWDwSM

There is more ladies and gentlemen, no sooner does the Meryl Streep festival conclude than we have perhaps the most eagerly awaited event of the year commence. La Vending Machine! So keep some 10 pence pieces handy.

Everybody is wondering what’s in store for the city as the people who brought the great Elephant to the streets of London, or Boris Johnson as he is known, bring a spectacular creature to Liverpool for 2008. They are calling it La Princess! I do hope it’s not going to be a 90ft Princess Anne on horseback jumping over the Churchill flyover and blooding the children as she slaughters any pensioners wearing a fox fur.

Or a gin sodden Princess Margaret marauding through the city streets chasing Roddy Llewellyn with a corkscrew. It wont be the other one, despite the Liverpool connection and the affair with Doddy, I can’t remember her name - off Panorama - claimed Prince Charles secretly married a camel and Prince Phillip once tried to smother the Queen mother with a pillow after she drank his Old Spice.

But anyway, the French designers who have created La Machine first visited Liverpool looking for inspiration as to what kind of creature they could build. I understand they were shocked to see and hear about such a web of deceit, so with that impression, who knows what they may come up with.

Of course machines like this have their origin in Victorian times with the popular but smaller scale automatons that used to go on display. They would both shock and excite huge crowds of people at major events. Perhaps the most shocking example of the period was The Great Exhibition of Prince Alberts, when they all dropped their trousers in front of Queen Victoria at the Trooping of the colour. That was where they got the idea for the 21-gun salute.

Apart from that and the closing ceremony, I suppose the other main event is one I should keep quiet about since I misguided readers about it some time back. I mistakenly thought it was the HGV awards. However, since then I have received tens of thousands of letters from angry welsh folk. It is of course the HTV awards, a celebration of Harlech Televisions finest achievements.

And where better to celebrate that than Liverpool. Probably Sir Diddy put in a word for us after he bought himself a place there with our council tax or was that Manchester. Oh, there's a thouht, we don’t want the Granada Awards; they might send Ray Gosling to investigate us. Mind you isn’t Bet Lynch still our cultural ambassador from those early heady days?

I do hope Les Dennis doesn’t start a fight with Max Boyce during the awards. It was bad enough when Cheggars chinned Harry Seacombe on a live edition of Highway. Still, Cheggers is off the juice now and remains one of my heroes, a man who is 100% proof - well not these days, he’s still off it - but he remains proof that if you cut Liverpool people in half, they would have plumtiousness written right through them.

Bless you young Keith. We should get him back here to sort out the mysterious One Swap Shop for Kensington. Maybe it was swapped for the LDL £15 million nobody can account for.

The HTV awards will celebrate an era of magnificent entertainment output. Remember they gave us Wycliffe, with Jack Sheppard, Three Little Words with Ray Allen and Barbie and Definition with Don Moss. Their Jewel in the Crown, of course was the inspired game show “Mr & Mrs”.

Ahh you see, a lot of people only remember the Derek Batey version on Border TV, but the HTV one had the great and bald Alan Taylor, who wore a monocle and went on to do Paint Along with Nancy Komisnky. She married Reagan of course and ran the USA while he talked to the hat-stand all day.

They’ll all be there on the big night, well not that swine Batey, who ousted Alan’s HTV version. But anyway, as Batey and Alan used to say at the end of each episode,

“be nice to each other”

If only our local politicians and indeed the world could adopt that wise and simple philosophy.

You know I may run off some t-shirts with that on. What’s Harbottle’s number?
They’d all want one especially if it had Alan and Batey on it. Subliminal social control as well. I’ll speak to Sir Bernard Hogan-Heroes about this.

Moving on, here’s a special message now to all you ladies. Oven Chips for the next couple of weeks missus, leave the chip pan in the cupboard, we don’t want any fires because Grotty cash is hosting the World Fire-fighter games, so you’ll have to make do with the Coast Guard in an emergency and swim out to sea. Yes it’s the Fire-fighter games at the Arena. We won the tender ha, ha by Jove!

This promises to be an event to rival the Beejam Olympics. They were going to have an Olympic style flaming torch ceremony but they just couldn’t help themselves and kept putting it out.

Nevertheless the main opening ceremony promises to be an amazing spectacle.

As the parade of fire-fighters march into the Arena, nine hundred and ninety nine (999 see they have thought it all through) specially invited youngsters will greet them with the now traditional hail of bricks and abuse as they kick off with the first event, “puttin’ar bommie out”. There will be music too from Nee-naw Simone backed by Sirenz, the stars of last years’ Matthew Street judge nobbling festival held on Fathers day.

Sad to say there is the usual controversy though to spoil the games. Apparently the pretty little girl in the Everton scarf singing “Smoke gets in your lies” was just lip syncing to little Wally Bradlow who actually sang it, but his head was thought to be too big and too crooked to represent the right image for Grotty Cash. Quite right. It looks like a peanut shell! It is a shame though; after all he scored top marks in the dope testing.

Just to note, there will be Green Goddesses on stand-by to finish the games, should there be any enquiries or dispute over the tiddlywinks results.

Modern Fire Service http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54krG8U6Cl0

Beijing Official Olympic Song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pY5zDQWd5bE

So missus, Grotty Cash is going to be the place to be over the coming months, particularly if you work for the Standards Board or the National Audit Commission. (Hopefully)

The message and advice then to Wally Bradlow and Future Lord Muck, Dicky Mint, remains the same.

It is the motto of the fire fighters themselves.

GET OUT and STAY OUT!

Be Nice To Each Other

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye!

CEX Spies and Idiot tapes. Comic turns at the Phone-Tappers and Shunters. Give order please!

2008-07-27T10:03:00.003+01:00

By Jove, Missus, I have only just found out that the latest series of my all time favourite television programme, Fantasy Island, is actually made right here in Grotty Cash!

I have just been down to see the set and meet the cast. It is completely stunning how they manage it.

The format has changed a little but it’s still the same incredible stories of a bunch of gormless folk and conniving tricksters who travel there wasting an absolute fortune, just to live out their personal fantasies of wealth and power.

What I love about the series is the mixture of intrigue, heartbreak and comedy.
Apparently though, this series has gone way over budget, at least 64 million. Twice that if you count the episode about the people whose fantasy it was to have equal pay and that’s nowhere near finished. They really should ditch the Executive Producer and the directors and get somebody else in before the show is axed.

I met up and had dinner with the stars. (Ha, ha Pete Price!! One-Nil to Chucklebutty, and I asked them about you and they said, “never heard of him”) They took me around the magnificent Town Hall set and told me about the current episodes being filmed.

If you have missed it this is basically the plot so far, Brad Pratt, plays the part of a simple fireman, Wally Bradlow. He has a heart-warming fantasy, that people will just take him seriously, so he is put in charge of a Lambanana Republic and it all just crumbles around him. Poor Wally, every time he opens his mouth, he puts his foot in it and what’s more, he has no money to run the country and no idea where it has all gone.

The problem is of course that Wally is surrounded by intrigue and incompetence and quickly joins in the spin to hide his own inadequacy. Although a very sad story, comic relief is provided by veteran music hall star Frank Randle, as toothless Mike Stormey, the former leader and founder of the new republic. Pictured here reassuring Wally.

Stormey had to jump before being chased out of office for trying to rob a poor pensioner and kick him out of his job in previous hilarious episodes. That was a favourite of mine, it starred Gerald Campion as Sir Diddy, a greedy little jumped up pen pusher. But Stormey was no match for Diddy who wiped the floor with him clearing off with huge bags of loot. "Yaroooo!"

Despite Stormey being disgraced, his little protégé Wally just hadn’t the heart or the guts to get rid of Stormey and keeps giving him jobs, so the joke is kept going as he continually keeps popping up to embarrass everyone with his madcap antics as he tries to scheme his way out of trouble in the same old way, getting caught out each time.

This means poor hapless Wally has to deal with the legacy of Diddy’s departure and the gang of unscrupulous little corporals that Diddy left behind who all hate Stormey. Wally had hoped that the appointment of a new Chief Pen-pusher Hilton J Stilton, pictured right on the day he first saw the accounts and played by the silent screen star Harold Lloyd, would sort things out for him as a safe pair of hands. But then they realised the safe was empty, in fact Stilton emptied some of it himself with his new salary and bonuses and a string of pay-offs. So with yet more mad-cap schemes, even more money pours down the grid as they completely lose control.

All the ensuing calamities, cock-ups and attempted cover-ups continue to be leaked to the resistance movement, the TP47 brigade as they are known and a coup is feared.

So Harold Lloyd as Stilton, spends all his time hanging off a ledger whilst trying to cover-up Stormey’s schemes, Wally’s incompetence and all of the waste and allegations of corruption.

In a hair raising sequence as Stilton hangs by a thread after being caught trying to listen-in to a telephone call involving the leader of the opposition party, the outraged Joe Scandafone, played by James Robertson-Justice,all hell breaks loose!

Astonished to find Stilton hanging from a ledge outside his office window with an ear trumpet, Joe demands to know what is going on and seeks answers through The Feeling of Infiltration Act. To his horror, he discovers that Stilton has been monitoring calls, eavesdropping and rifling through everybody’s drawers.

What’s worse is that to spy on everybody and find the mole, he’s been using the services and technology of the evil Dr Dive InMeshowerhoney, to do it. Donald Pleasance gives his usual wonderfully creepy performance as the Doctor, who is the Head of Listen-in Direct, the company siphoning off all the state gold reserves.

But Stilton is no longer the innocent people thought he was. He was supposed to sort out the evil doctors empire but soon realised that if he did, the whole house of cards (all jokers) would come crashing down. So when Joe finds out he’s been under secret surveillance, Stilton quickly points the finger at his chief check-out girl who can never get her till to balance and that he wants to get rid of anyway.

Poor Phyllis Hearsall, is the less than innocent cashier, played by Joyce Grenfell.

In a stormy meeting, at the town hall, Joe tells everyone that it’s all a cover-up and a secret report had already shown who had been leaking all the state secrets to the resistance movement. Joe shows everybody a list of the number of times he has phoned for a Pizza, as recorded by Hearsall and demands the suspension of the series until the writers can up with a more believable script.

The last episode ended with Wally, Stormey, Stilton and Hearsall in the bar of the Phone-Tappers and Shunters Social Club with them all walking towards camera saying “what do we do next, what do we do next?”

Well I don’t know what they will do next either missus. I just hope they don’t axe the whole show. It’s like I Claudius meets Michael Bentine’s Potty Time.

Anyway you should all look out for it. Deidre Bartley in the Wrexham Post is one of the few TV critics that have done write-ups on the show. The Hecko seems too interested in Purple Ronnie’s obsession with men’s bicycle clips and Colleens hemlines to say much about it.

Every now and then, if it gets just too talked about to ignore, the Hecko will give a watered down review by Nick Columngone. But anyway, have a look at the fan site on the internet if you want to know more. It’s called The Vile Dispicablog or Liverpool-Bus-shelter, something like that. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Next week Mrs Chucklebutty will be reviewing the re-make of comedy courtroom drama: Perry Makin. Starring Ross Kemp.

Tatty bye Everybody TattyBye.

THE SOUND OF LIVERPOOL A special day for all our musical legends! From The Great Frankie Vaughan to Eleanor Rigsby and Rexy Music,

2008-07-12T09:15:00.012+01:00

By Jove Missus, I couldn’t leave that picture of the Fireman up for too long, far too depressing. So I thought a new entry in my Official Guide to Capital Of Custard was called for.

Today I am going to talk about the Musical City that is Liverpool. Yes, it’s not just Jam that we mine here; anyway they were a London band I think. No this is about the homegrown stars of Grotty Cash who have lead the world of popular music. And I’m doing this for Capital of Custard because personally I can’t stand them. No, give me Joe Loss or Tommy Dorsey anytime.

Mind you Missus, this day to celebrate the Fab Five is causing some controversy. I mean for goodness sake (I bet you thought I was going to say Hippy Hippy Shake next) a Beatles day! I thought we were building the future for the city besides; there are only Mick and Titch left. Of course after Titch’s comments following the opening night for Capital of Custard, there is still some resentment, but cutting his head off was going too far in my book. Going on and on about the Beatles after all this time is very tiresome.

I mean it was 1957 when they last performed together. Although who can forget them singing ‘Zone-Ticket to Ride’ on the roof of that tram, and Get Back, Get Back inside, the conductor shouted all the way through, you can hear it on the album.

Well it’s health and safety, you know. It’s like now if you ask the bus driver “can I jump off here”? And he says “No yer f-ing can't you wanna get me sacked”?

And I’ll tell you something else; I don’t care if this Beatles day is for charity, because if that Chiz Cole has something to do with it, I wouldn’t give him a free parking space. I think he’s cost me quite enough already with his Summer Pops Concerts. It may be Chiz Cole promotions but judging by how much it costs, it’s Nutty Slack finances.

Yes give the Beatles a rest it was too long ago. It’s like going on about winning the World Cup in 1945. Seriously, you ask the young people today to name a Beatles song the response is “Gorra spare ciggie mate”? Which I think was one by the Rolling Stoned. And if you tell them no, they say “ F-off Ya fat tw*t” which is probably something by the Sex Pistols. No idea!

Even the Beatles albums and massive hits like, Sgt Bilko’s, Childwall Abbey Road, Strawberry Tarts and Cleo Lane or Lily the Pink. Never heard of them. Amazing but true. Well how many of you can name an Al Bowley hit? And anyway, there are lots of other great Liverpool musical artists who equally deserve their own day.

How about a Michael Holliday….day …I mean a day to celebrate…alright maybe that would be too confusing; Mind you the Yanks have Doris Day.

What about Frankie Vaughan? Frank was a great star in his day and also a very nice man. He had that famous song that became an anthem for anyone who owed rent and had the bailiffs coming round, “Doing a Moonlight” At least we have a well deserved statue of Billy Fury but if we want to show off the music and Culture of the city let’s have one of Frankie too. It would look marvellous doing one of his famous high kicks, especially if placed behind one of those Lambananas. Just don’t let that Tommy Steele do it, for god’s sake. Dumping his rubbish in the middle of the night! There’s a law against fly tipping mate! That statue he did of Leonard Rossiter as Rigby; looks nothing like him. It’s more like Miss Jones on Diazepam.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-meN57FjIRw The great Frankie

But yes, I would certainly wear a straw hat and carry a cane for Frankie Vaughan day.
We are almost there already with so many people around town wearing a baseball hat and carrying a can of Caines.

By Jove, there are lots of local stars we could celebrate with a special day. There is Sonia Day, which could come after Saturday. We could all drink whiskey on a Sonia Day. Didn’t Norman Lamont try to start this some time ago with Cilla Black Wednesday or something? I know he lost a fortune on it. It was something to do with her joining the Eurhythmics and the ELO and there was a fall out? It was the same day that the late Sonny Bono broke his leg. There had been a major fall in Chers.

You know it’s a shame the Happy Mondays are from Manchester, that would have saved a few quid in print costs and we could have had that dancing chap, what’s his name? He used to clean up for them, Bex Bissell or something. You know him, he’s married to Sylvester Stallone's mother, there was a flies on the wall documentary about them, all living together in Germaine Greer’s house with her husband who does the racing and is a raging coke addict. "I want my coke", he was screaming, terrible. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4keJdGJAYM Mrs Bex Bissel.

But anyway we could have all danced like Bex for the whole day. Fun and fitness combined. You see I have got my thinking cap on. A bit more of an effort than a mop top and at least maintaining a bit of dignity.

I think Gerry Marsden gets enough play with his Bryan Ferry Roxy Mersey and the one they sing at the football, “I’m forever blowing bubbles” or something. Now before you start, I think Gerry is wonderful, in fact I never missed him on the Sooty Show with Matthew Corbett. By the way, I hear Sweep was arrested when he took out his water pistol at the bank recently.

Well he’s been hitting the bottle you know, he is very upset since Matthew sold him along with Sooty and Soo. What a swine that Matthew was. He wouldn’t let Harry Corbett near Sooty you know after he took over. Said it would confuse the children. They were probably confused enough turning the sound up on the telly every time Sooty spoke. Poor Harry, I remember him being humiliated on Wogan when Matthew wouldn’t let him have a go. He had to make do with Terry’s wig and pretend a steamroller had squashed Soo. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3PK7_Ueh9X0 sweep sings

Sorry, back to the main point. There are so many great musical stars from Liverpool even if we can’t have a special day for each one, we need to get them all in before Capital of Custard year is over.

There was the Four Seasons, their lead singer Vivian works in a supermarket now and is always happy to sign autographs. So if you ever want to meet The Four Seasons, Viv, Aldi is where you can catch her. The more I think about it, the more spring to mind.

The Netherley Brothers, T-Rex Makin, he did that novelty song “Hole in the ground” and “Boy Named Sue” and “ How could you believe me when you know I’ve been a lawyer all my life”.

We had Roger Hunt with his Mexican Whistle for half time and I’m gonna play Old Durham Town FC (Roger in action) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AJHXQJCQ1k and on a similar theme of course Bill Shankly and the Comets with Rock Around the Kop.

There was also that other chap who sang “Cream” and “Kiss”, his real name was Alfred Rode but he changed it to Prince. Actually when the police caught up with him for selling pirate CDs and knock-off videos around the boozers in Old Swan, they referred to him as, The Con Artist formerly known by his fingerprints.

I am not sure what we could do for Pete Wryly, apart from a house clearance.
Have you seen his gaff?

And one best avoided I think would be a Pete Burns Day! We couldn’t all go around the city pouting and telling everyone to F**k off. It would just be like a normal day, nobody would notice the difference. Maybe we could do it if it was just confined to the time he had his big hit “ I’m having one of my turns” was it? Or “ I’m so Dizzy”. I have to say when he had his band Bread or Aloaf (did they do Vienna?) and he used to hang out in Pube Records, or walk through town wearing only a thong, you had to admire his cheek. Well Mrs Chucklebutty did, he’s probably still got the teeth marks.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ck-Uo52MOg (Pete in hayday)

Now who’s the other fellow, the one Wally Bradlow had wanted to ban from the Arena and then had to hide in the toilets when they were on, The Farmers, you know him, MacDonald or MacCropspray or something, they could get us all together for a day if they could just work out when best suits.

I tell you this though ladies and gentlemen, if I had my way, and I don’t care that she’s not from Liverpool, because this would be a truly uniting national event, my choice would be to have an Anita Harris Day. Here she is with our very own Citytalk host and columnist Pete Murray. I would happily draw a little mole over me lip and don a leotard for that. By Jove yes! And I’ve still got the legs for it Missus, I’ve still got the legs!

Anita

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

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye!

(Updated) One Trick Peronis Wally Bradlow, Dicky Mint and the Blog Standards Board

2008-07-09T10:03:00.006+01:00

Advertising feature
Wally: C'mon Dicky you got to back me up,these buggers investigating us could hang me out to dry!
Dicky: .....It was him, it was him. I had nothing to do with it. Gottle of geer, gottle of geer!

Remember what you did last night?

Who you were with?

Who you spoke to?

Did you call anyone or send a text?

Well don't worry..look at where we were 10 years ago.

The Standards Board are back. They just love Liverpool, you can't keep 'em away. Hear what they have to say soon.

By Jove Missus, will we soon have a new leader, a new dawn?

Iron your best frock, Flo.

Can I have the first dance?

What fine representatives of the city we have in our resident double act.

Whilst we await the outcome of other outstanding investigations by the standards board, yet another matter involving the behaviour of Dicky Mint is referred to them. Is this a new record? Will the standards board move to Liverpool full time. They said Capital of Custard would create jobs.

I really think it's time Dicky was put back in the suitcase for good. My understanding is that during the giving of evidence,there was an interesting twist, Wally gave his account while Dicky drank a glass of water.

The little outburst last night by Wally showed that they have missed a crucial point.

Whoever is responsible for leaking information to the "Dirty Despicable blog" (Dicky says "Oh, no I didn't" but Wally even messes up the denial by shouting "so did you") the point is the Blog would never have happened had it not been for the dirty and despicable behaviour of Dicky, Diddy and their cronies and all those who refused to take proper action at the right time.

I may even lend my support to Foghorn Leggarty's Elected Mayor Campaign now if Dicky Mint is still destined to be the next Mayor of Grotty Cash.

Sorry to be so brief but I am working on my new campaign, a Knighthood for Rex Hesperus. A true icon of this city and its culture.

Either that or a Mayor in the Makin'.

By the way, anyone who wears a Beatles mop-top today will be noted and dealt with when either I or Sir Rex become Mayor. Best not buy the Ringo one either!

Look, if you want to give money to charity, never mind the self indulgence, "Ooohh I ran 20miles for irritable bowel syndrome, I raised £33.00 for flatulent owls dressed up as Elvis. No, just cancel your holiday and give your chosen charity the cost of it and all your spending money. Don't torment me, knocking on the door dressed up as a milkman, asking for money or you'll get another clout! Ohh... Mrs Chucklebutty, has just told me that that actually was the milkman. I'll pay him next week, or when he is discharged.

Or of course you could donate all the money you saved by getting free parking off the council.

Tatty bye everybody tatty bye !

Millions lost in The Vortex, Mr Potato Head, LDL and the Return of Ol' Blue Eye

2008-07-02T01:03:00.027+01:00

By Jove Missus my subject today isn’t exactly about Custard 2008 but it goes a long way towards explaining why Grotty Cash has no money to pay for it or anything else for that matter.

Put your Anoraks on now.

So Did you see the drama-documentary on Saturday?

I was just back from my gentlemen’s club and frankly I had been mixing the grape and the grain with rather a powerful moulinex so I missed the very beginning but it was all about LDL. and how they have ripped off Grotty Cash?

It was on at Saturday teatime.

“They Stole the Earth” it was called and nobody knew where it had all gone. Was it anything to do with The Doctor?

Millions and millions had disappeared, feared lost forever including an additional 15 million that nobody new had been taken in the first place or what for. Then a message came through the computers with that all too familiar grating and menacing voice-

EX-PEN-DITURE –

EX-PEN-DITUUUUURRRRE!!!

It was those evil machines, Liverpool Dalekts Limited !
But how had the Dalekts survived this long? Many thought they had been locked in a call queue. Or that the Shallow Proclamation with it's full 37 recommendations would have curtailed their power and their ability to harvest the life and budgets from humanity. All Human Resources had been wiped out in fact almost everything they could get their plungers on, even dead turkeys, in their lust for wealth and power.

Those under their power had nowhere to turn to for help. Although the new Colonic Federation had promised to halt their evil ways, they did nothing to counter the evil menace and even allowed them to extend their grip on power for another five years.

There was of course one particular figure, an evil mastermind who had not been
spoken of for some time until suddenly, from the shadows, we first heard a chilling
voice. No it can’t be…can it? ...And then we saw a glowing blue eye with a Pound sign
in it as slowly the evil one emerged from the darkness.

Yes he’s was back! Dr. DAVROS MacIllPenny creator of The Dalekts

Claiming that he had rebuilt an entirely new empire using cell-phones from his own body. Dressed in a rather fetching black leather outfit, I wonder where he gets them? There can’t be that many gentlemen’s outfitters in the Medusa Cascade, (is that one of the new chain shops in Liverpool One?) I can’t imagine the Dialeks taking off their plungers and fitting a K-Tel Stitch-o-matic sewing machine on instead. Anyway he looked as menacing as ever and strangely in need of a shower. Mind you judging by his complexion he could do with some moisturising gel in there with him.

Of course he claims to be the creator of the Dalekts but as we know he would never have developed them had he not been brought here by the aggressive, short, stumpy, potato-headed figure of General Sir Diddyx of the Tenth Sentpackin Battle Fleet.

General Diddyx Henshaw

Diddyx of course was himself brought here by The Master or The Storeyteller, as he is sometimes known.

The Master is armed with a particularly dangerous device a Moronic Screw-it-up-driver. This has the power to shrink objects, particularly budgets. And allow him to disappear. But it was no match for General Diddyx who quickly showed him after landing on Grotty Cash that he was The Master now!

Actually, there was a another documentary all about the Master, about this time last year. Yes, it showed him like a maniac, callously and dangerously pushing some very old man arouund in a wheelchair, whilst singing at the top of his voice, “ I can’t decide whether you should live or die”. I suspect this was when they were looking at closing Leytone Dene and Boaler Street. Didn’t stop them though. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JSdE9x5bvjU

That was a close run thing, they would never have been able to shut them had it had it not been for the Atmos System releasing a noxious gas which resulted in a big ball of fat running to their aid allowing them to cling on to power.

Anyway if you missed it, part two is next week. As well as Dr DavilHinney, there is going to be something about Regeneration.

Mind you, I suspect that like the rest of the Glib Dums, who allowed Davros to plunder and bleed Grotty Cash dry, in the first place, it may all be something to do with living in a parallel world, where at the end anything Noble dies. I mean surely this kind of madness couldn’t happen in the real world!

But then again in spite of everything we knew, some idiot signed up for another 5 years without anyone knowing the full content of, or if any of the recommendations of the Shallow Proclamation KPMG /06 had been implemented.

Never mind, the fight back will be lead by Fireman Jack Courtcase from Scorchwood. He will report back on Davros’s empire. So maybe can we expect something in the post?

Contractually, I suppose, he will be forced to go through LDL to get the report typed up on one of their PCs and sent out through their network connections.

If they really want to sort out LDL, the answer is simple.

Reverse the polarity!

Tatty Bye Everybody, tatty bye!

HGV Music Awards, Pete Price Exposed, The verdict on the Bishop, The Ducks Dispute and muggings in Anfield. Plus Missing post;Leadership battle

2008-06-26T03:03:00.042+01:00

By Jove Missus, it’s not long to go now until the Echo Margarina hosts the showbiz event of Custard year, the HGV awards.

But first here is a short film about road safety http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAstMJhzUxk

Now back to the main business.

What always amazes me about the HGV awards event is the interest shown by so many rock stars and the music industry. They all turn up for it, in fact last time I tuned in; the drivers hardly got a look in!

You know what the press is like. It’s nice that these music industry stars should give our lorry drivers their support on the big night by turning out in such numbers but don’t be too pushy.

I suppose for the drivers, it’s like having their friends turn up.

I imagine when you are driving long distances all alone in your cab; the radio is your only companion as you charge along the M6 at three miles an hour munching on your Mexican Taco graph crisps.

Do they still eat Yorkies ?

I suspect that was banned
by the RSPCA.

Mind you Missus, listening to the radio has its hazards. Think of the poor foreign drivers coming into Merseyside late at night and the radio suddenly picks up our very own Pete Pricerite screaming -

“ Yer a filthy vile no mark!”

That’s the kind of welcome we like to give visitors. Put them at ease. He’s got a Blog now you know, old Pete “I’ll knock yer block off” Price, an award winning one by all accounts. He’s done very well.

I remember him when he was so poor he had to make a suit out of the Echo. Yes, he used to wear it for his stand-up act. Mind you the deaths column down his trouser leg was a bit distracting for the front row. One night an old lady got up on stage trying to complete the crossword.

The suit was always tearing on stage. Remember the spot the ball competition Pete? Yes it was after that he started making underwear as well from the footie echo.

The score draws, we called them.

So anyway, where was I?

Oh yes the HGV awards! Of course you know this has all been well planned in advance and Grotty Cash sent our equivalent of Beavis and Butthead, our civic leaders, Cheesis and Benthead (Stilton and Wally Bradlow to you Missus) to see how the event is managed. So don't worry, it’s not going to be like the Pole MacSlidey concert at Anfield. Jeremy Clarkson wont be demanding that 2 million is handed over to him at the last minute to organise it. And since the Custard company won’t be doing the tickets (will they?) They wont flog you a £75.00 ticket for the Anfield Road end and when you turn up your seat is three quid one in the car park at Goodison!

That reminds me, I still haven’t got my Kodak Brownie 44a back from those thieving swine!

They confiscated everything I had to enable me to enjoy the concert! My brolly, my camera, my bottle of Teachers, the Pot Noodles, car battery and travel kettle, the primer stove and portable barbeque set, the sausages, the 12 bottles of Bishops Finger and the inflatable bed.

They even took my Rolf Harris Stylophone (and I had been practicing “My Diane” and “Charmaine” all week to join in - he didn’t do them anyway) Outrageous!

(Rare recordings of The Beatles in their hayday)

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

I thought we were trying to get away from this image of thieves. The entire audience was more or less mugged at the turnstiles!

Actually Mrs Chucklebutty refused to go in when she saw people getting frisked, I think she was worried about them confiscating her perfume. She muttered something about having 25 quids worth of Charlie stashed in her Ethel Austin’s and ran off down the road when she saw the Police.

The Police didn’t play either and I have no idea which one of them was Stink. There may have been a Message in a Bottle but all the bottles were confiscated.

American comedian all the way from Bolton, Massachusetts, Stubby Kaye was very funny although even he had his garlic bread confiscated. Mind you his joke about thanking the council didn’t go down too well.

I am glad to say that following the booing from the crowd Wally and Flo decided not to do their version of the infamous Justin Timberland and Jesse Jackson Super bowl incident.

The plan was, that they would sing a duet of

Jacqui and Bridie’s only venture into Gangsta Rap. with
“ Yo Missin’ millions mother-******s”

and on the line - “you can kiss my glib-dum ass" Flo would have yanked down Wally’s trousers to reveal a Rusty Sheriffs Badge. I really don’t think it would have conveyed the right message.

Now a couple of other news items for Custard Year As you will know capital of Custard will transform Liverpool creating 10 trillion jobs mostly security men guarding the 2,000 new empty city apartments nobody wants or can afford.
So it is encouraging to see Liverpool leaping to the top of the employment figures nationally for having 25% out of work.

All the more free time to go and see the Klimt Eastwood exhibition and sit on a Bench for Liverpool. Ahaa! So that’s what it’s for, the unemployed!

That Redmond fella knows what he’s doing after all.

But it is very worrying and with the cost of petrol these days, I doubt the young people could afford another 1981 style riot.

Apparently a council spokesman blamed the unemployment on Liverpool’s decline as a port and said we are still suffering from the collapse of the Ducks. Well what do you expect when you dredge Sefton Park Lake? They have to walk everywhere now!

Maybe some of the Ducks could follow the Liverpool Dockers example and take over a Bistro.

Quackerblanca!

Yes the legacy for the city is really taking shape isn’t it?

Church Street is now rapidly becoming the new Wavertree Road with all the main shops shifting to Liverpool Con. So much so that even Mr Plinka Plonka has moved to Debenhams.

They’ll be begging the market stallholders to come back soon to hide the boarded up windows. Soon there will be no chewing gum left along the pavement wave. Should save a few quid on the Christmas lights. Rapid Hardware can do their own since it will only be their customers winding their way through the tumbleweeds.

Yes very well thought out and not at all predicted!

Now another issue that has arisen recently is the controversy over our very own Bishop of Liverpool, Indiana Jones.

Rumour has it according to one of his former employees that he hates Liverpool.
I can’t believe that, after all look at his involvement in the Kensington New Deal…err…
anyway he always had a hard act to follow since the passing of Dr Donald Sinden and his - No, no, David Owen wasn’t it?

He had a double act with the Catholic one,

Bishop Deryck Guyler, I think. I know there was Bill Rogers and Shirley Warlocks involved. Oh I can’t remember, anyway they have a statue of them both now to mark them founding Littlewoods Pools or something.

So he probably gets annoyed seeing that every Sunday on the bus to work.

I have heard it said that Bishop Jones claims to have the “gift of tongues”.

Well I can tell you ladies and gentlemen, I took a stroll through the Anglican Cathedral grounds one evening and was offered something along those lines but it wasn’t a gift, she wanted twenty quid!

Tatty bye Everybody Tatty bye!

Ahhh! but not yet.....
From the Archives deep under the seams of Grotty Cash Jambutty mine.

I bring you the missing post Ladies and gentlemen!

The Galaxy of Stars who turned out for the greatest contest ever seen. The Leaderership Contest.

By Jove missus, what a night! I have just returned from the showbiz event of the year!
Yes ladies and gentlemen, The DAFTAS. The Glibbering Dum Academy members have been voting this evening to determine the most worthy performers and outstanding contributions from the dream factory that is WALLYWOOD.
Named of course in honour of our great inspirational leader Wally Bradlow.

Yes it was make your mind up time to decide who will be the leading light on Bradway.

It began with the curtain rising to reveal the Grotty Cash Asbo Ensemble Choir (again)

Grotty Cash Asbo Ensemble http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DnyzNLO9Bnw

all dressed in sequinned shell-suits belting out in close disharmony that rousing classic “Hooray for Wallywood” as they began to remove items of silver from the display cabinets, before legging it down Castle Street. (The full lyrics of the opening number and police descriptions are printed below.)

Now I won’t spoil it just yet by telling you the winner but as usual it is steeped in controversy. But if I mention the leader of the Rat-pack….?

First Ladies and Gentlemen, there were many other important categories up for awards.

Best supporting hand up the “leaders” backside went to Dicky Mint the Storeyteller.

Spanish Director, Jose Holabarrow took the coveted Greasy Orange Palm award.

Harassing Forde won the Peroni Award for Fiction & Fantasy for
“Readers of the Lost Remarks” and the “Meryl Streep Festival Enquiry” which also won worst scriptwriter.

Astonishingly, “One Flew out of the Clucas Nest” was not up for any awards. However, the star, is said to be taking it on the chin. She gave this statement to Hecko reporter Alistair McCraven.

“I am glad to be out of it this time round, the McCartneyist witch-hunts are about to start all over again and at least two of our leading stars are soon to appear before them. It really can end your career. Let me say now, I am not and have never been a member of the Custard Company. Once this is all over, they will need an old pro’ to take the lead role in the next no budget bankbuster”

Now you may be aware that Cinerama is back!

And the massive wide screen was just in the nick of time to announce the winner in the best newcomer and Turncoat Prize category, who also was given a Lunchtime Achievement award.

Yes Narnia Stewpid took the ‘Jaws Award’ for her many memorable rolls and epics.

Great Performances such as;
‘Loves Labours Lost’
‘Mash’
‘Chocolat’
‘Goodbye where’s me Chips’
‘Guess who’s coming to dinner….? Me’.
‘Mutiny for a Bounty’,
‘Passage to Indian’
‘Four Wedding Cakes and Tuna roll’,
‘The Greatest Sorbet Ever Sold’,
‘Back to the Foodstore II’,
‘You only Lunch Twice’,
‘It’s a Wonderful Loaf’, and of course
Biblical Epic ‘The Tinned Corn and Mince’
Lloyd Webber Musical ‘Cheeses, Crust Soup to Start’
And crime Thriller “ The Long Good Fried Egg”
And my old personal favourite, Apackocrisps Now!)

So, ladies and gentlemen, on to the main winner of the night.

Now you may have heard it announced that popular contenders the Gaudy double act, Rant and Dick (also known from their earlier career with a few flop chart hits as PC and Drinkin’) won the main vote in the people’s choice award but it turned out that just because ex Custard Creamer, Robyn Millions, wanted to fly in from Australia to present them with an award, the panel of judges had fixed the result.

Of course Rant and Dick who knew nothing of this, have been a major farce in light entertainment with hits such as “He’s a Calamity Get Me Out of Here” and many expected them to take the clown, I mean crown.

But on the night, the real people’s choice and continuing leader of the Crap-Pack was in none other than Wally Brando for his performance as Catherine of Arrogant at the Tate. The re-crowned Rat-Pack leader , Wally Bradlow squeaking live from Las Vague Arse was clearly overwhelmed at the number of his peers that voted against him.

“So what’s it like to still be leader will it be back to base tricks?” the reporters asked.
“Who dear, me dear, lead role in the Titanic? How very dare you! Just because I have a hand up my jacksy making my lips move, doesn’t mean I can’t still talk through it”

Then Storeyteller his co-star chipped in,

“ Come to see me have ya?
Come up to see your old Mike?
What a f*****g liberal..”

So against all predictions, except for those that predicted a win for Wally, there you have it, Victory for the lad himself. Stone me! Fantastic result. We are home and dry!
Unlike one of the contenders I expect.

And now as promised here is the singalong sheet. Tonight’s opening number from the ASBO choir, who will be live at the Anfield concert, where Macca himself will perform the anthem tribute.

Hooray for Wallywood!

Hooray for Wallywood
That screwy, ballyhooey Wallywood!
Where any fireman Or storeyteller
can lead while Yellar
With just a dumb-looking grin
And any Stewart
Can really screw-it
If she sees a bag
with some doughnuts in.

Hooray for Wallywood!
Where it’s horrific
that they’re all no good!
Where anyone at all
like Jasper Harbarrow
or Fatty Marbrow
is equally no damn good
Come on and try your luck
Nobody gives a F**k
Hooray for Wallywood!

Hooray for Wallywood!
That Tony, showed they’re phoney,
Wallywood
They gave us Harbarrow
and Robbing Archer
On whose departure,
filled their bags up with cash

08 culture,
a circling vulture
cock it up
and then make a dash

Hooray for Wallywood!
You may be pissed off
in your neighbourhood.

Still, if you wonder why
the city’s strapless
Just point to Hapless
He’d make a monkey look good!

We’re getting near the hour
When we can dump this shower
Time’s up for Wallywood!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRWeQ6nq6n8

By the way, Mr Clein only got a small number of votes. Probably cos it’s German for Diddy, Have I mentioned that? Diddy win? Diddy heck and he De-Cleined to comment.

Tatty bye Everybody, Tatty bye!

Coming soon to Capital of Custard - the Chuckle Bros, Jason and the Argonauts and Clint!!!!

2008-05-30T19:08:00.014+01:00

By Jove Missus, it’s finally coming together. Hurrah!

After many months of bitter wrangling, sordid accusations and blame culture, with one fiasco and collapse after another, as well as some of the most appalling behaviour and abusive language I have ever witnessed, Mrs Chucklebutty’s flat pack bedroom suite is now almost complete.

Just the dressing table to go.

But never again! I can tell you….

"What? What???"

"I’m doing it now, woman!!"

"I am."

"No, I am not on the 'f-ing blog.'"

"I am just checking the website to see why we still have all these screws. "

"Good!"

"Go to the bingo, I’ll have it finished by the time……"

She’s gone….I can still hear her swearing in the street - oh ha ha!

She caught her head a whack on the hanging basket again! Serves her right.

Bloody self assembly. That’s one for trades description. I thought it was like one of those pop-up tents but we tipped it all out and nothing happened. Months I waited!

Why anyone wants to do this when you could get a perfectly good bedroom set from somewhere like Quiggins.

Alright, so these days the founder has come out on Youtube as BNP rather than MFI but you still need somewhere to hang your vests.

Good to know that in Capital of Custard year that the founder of Liverpool’s Iconic Emporium for the young Bohemian, where you could buy your joss sticks and Che Guava posters, is flying the flag.

I’m just not sure if it’s the right flag or one made popular in the 1930’s.

I wonder though how many of their customers would have survived the concentration camps set up by those from whom Mr Quiggins promoted party friends originally found their political inspiration?

Yes, you could get tattoos done at Quiggins as well I believe, but I don’t think they were compulsory or that they murdered the customers afterwards.

I can remember the good old days of Aunt Twacky’s Bazaar and of course 69A but now Quiggins makes me think of Zyklon B.

Ahh, the BNP they tell us they were never like that and have changed.

I think it’s called Hitlercause denial.

Maybe their old friend Dr David Irving could write a book about it now he’s out of prison.

What a shame.

Something once fondly celebrated is now tarnished and poisoned.

A funny old election wasn’t it?

And in the same week, Mrs Chucklebutty reveals to me that the much loved actor and war hero, James Stewart, was secretly a big player in the commie witch-hunts and a lot of other right wing political nastiness.

Oh, I can’t risk having any more heroes.

I am going to dismantle my shrines to Anita Harris and Jimmy Clitheroe before something comes out about them as well.

Speaking of the Clitheroe Kid, and back to normal business, Sheriff Bradlow has appointed a new Deputy, Cluckleberry Flo!

The crazy dancin’ gal that took over the Boot Ranch from Calamity Kemp for a while and turned it into the paradise it is today.

Yeeeha!

Seems she came at a cost though, the town just wasn’t big enough for two schoolteachers and she saw to it that one lame mule was more or less put out to pasture and destined to be an old grey mayor.

Another change on the reservation was the chopping down of the big thick ugly Totem pole on Elder Ridge.

Nobody seems to have noticed that it’s gone but a lot of folks are saying it still casts a dark shadow.

But ladies and gentlemen I am pleased to see that Capital of Custard events are really picking up now.

Roly Joe Riley has done an excellent piece promoting the sex god that is Philharmonic Conductor Vasilly Pertbottom.
I understand that his next performance will be the soundtrack from the film “The Full Monty” with him stripping naked at the end whilst the choir sing “You can keep your baton.”

Much better than Faure’s Requiem or Bachs Ass in B Minor, as Joe joked.

Now something I am looking forward to is the Klimt Exhibition.

I love all those Spaghetti Westerns and Dirty Harry.

I always used to say to Mrs Chucklebutty, “come on punk, make my tea.”

Mind you, she’d laugh and then belt me with a Fistfull of Scallops followed by A Few Scallops More, when I said “how about a sandwich then”?

Oh hang on, no it’s not Klimt Eastwood at all.

What a disappointment.

It’s some fellow who paints bread I think, something here about a Vienna.

William Morris will be there, the chap who used to do Animal Magic and Hammy Hamster and some Scottish chap in a mackintosh who’s brought some of his furniture.

I can’t see this bringing in the crowds!

Am I going mad or something?

It says here that one of Klimts most famous works will be on display, a reconstruction of Beethoven’s Fridge!!

A master piece of 20th century art that combines painting sculpture architecture….well now I know it’s nonsense Beethoven was dead by the early 1800s.

It says here, a prime example of the concept pioneered by Richard Wagner of the total work of art “GESAMTKUNSTWERK”

Hmm!

Now I am pretty sure that was the motto over the entrance to the old dole office in Leece Street. Well maybe that was an Arts and Crafts building.

Actually it was more likely a scouser with a felt tip pen.

Ladies and gentlemen, I almost forgot, there is also of course the comedy festival with clowns and comedians taking centre stage between now and 2010 at least.

Unless one or two comedians drop out in which case it may be renamed the Tears of Relief Festival.

But let’s give the Lib Dems a break for now.

Hopefully, the biggest laugh will come in a couple of months with Comedian Lee Hurst in 'Postman Prat meets Fireman Scam' appearing at The Royal Crown Court.

The Chuckle Brothers themselves should anytime soon be together again for one last time in Jason and The Lager Nits.

The conspiracy to rid us of the Legendary Orange Fleece.

Don’t forget Jamie Oliver will be here as well for the start of the Tall Chips race.

Seems things are really looking up again.

Oh no sorry, that’s the budget deficit for the Custard Company.

Tatty Bye Everybody, Tatty Bye

THE END OF THE BLOGGINING: THE BLOATED VENDETTA WHALE, HMS LISTING BADLY, AND THE POUNDS CAST AWAY.....

2008-05-03T20:47:00.016+01:00

By Jove, Mrs Chucklebutty is furious.
I had promised her that today I would be announcing my retirement and we would move to our villa in Spain, next door to the Harbottles, but looks like hacienda that…for now!
I have to apologise that in my Election Special I issued the Mayday call, that we were abandoned at sea and surrounded by Sharks and Jellyfish.
My warning was not sufficient. I was unaware that the treacherous waters of the Mersey also contained a hidden menace.
Yes at the last minute just when the many vulnerable and forgotten people thought the lifeboat had reached them and had begun to cheer their imminent salvation from the stagnant slurry that has contaminated our blessed waters for almost 10 years, a great blubber whale broke the surface of foaming slime and swallowed the hopes of thousands in one sickening and orchestrated gulp.
The Bloated Vendetta Whale, clearly attracted by a pool of plankton and the nearby sinking ship, Listing Bradley, was harpooned and dragged on board by the discredited Captain, only to have its carcass rammed into the rotten bulkhead (as the Captain is known by many of his crew) to keep the wreck afloat for a little longer.
Although whaling is internationally frowned upon (where was Greenpeace?) this sad and pathetic creature was used by the ship of lost souls to keep their hopelessly lost vessel upright.
Whilst the callous crew briefly pat its head and feed its ego, it will soon be left below the water line to slowly rot.
Sadly that is the truth of whaling in today’s waters, where just enough flesh is taken from the dim witted creature to cover an area the size of one seat and the rest of the blubber - and even the meat head - is left to decompose or will eventually be thrown back to the into the water where it may be devoured by those who placed it there.
So how long before the next rescue ship?
Captain Bradlow's crew are already plotting mutiny. Fletcher Clein (have I ever mentioned it’s German for Diddy? Yes, I may have) has already announced that the Captain has to be thrown overboard before the entire crew perishes.
Who knows what new direction Admiral Stilton would have taken had the so-called Flagshit of the Glib Dum Navy sunk without trace.
Maybe a mutiny will go some way towards swabbing the putrid decks or more likely, it may delay ridding us of what has become a poison where the antidote is still being developed and in need of further tests.
But Shipmates, we will all drown if we do not continue to battle against the waves.
All that the Captain has really achieved in harpooning the whale is, as they say in nautical terms, “15 tons on a dead mans chest, yo ho ho and a battered glib dum.”
Now before any anonymous soul comments about insensitivity - such as that made about Mr Gleeson and tells me: “when you compared Lardia Stewpid to a bloated whale, where you aware of the fact that she had actually lost the ability to get her fat arse to a constituency meeting, select committee or ward surgery? If so it was insensitive, insulting and below the standards……” etc, etc, etc.
Well, yes missus, I was fully aware that there was a Kentucky Fried Chicken shop and a Sayers and a Chippy between Stupid's home and the nearest meeting room.
And of course I openly admit that both Mrs Chucklebutty and I are no strangers to pastry and on this occasion I have gone for the easy target of Orca Steward being a little on the portly side.
But then I am following the example of her new found, short-term friends, who also like to go for the easy targets, such as those people who are being thrown out of their day care centres to finance incompetence and pay-off idiots and failures!
“Steady on Chucklebutty, you are starting to sound like the Tony’s!”
I know, I know - but nothing wrong with that! And frankly this has got my gander up, and I am worried she will eat it.
This is not the end and not even the blogginning of the end.
But it is the end of the blogginning.
We must fight them on the benches! (As soon as they announce the winning entry.)
Blog, Sweat and eventual Cheers!
Iron the curtains….sorry that’s a note from Mrs Chucklebutty.
Finally, for those of you who are still unaware of the finale results for the Glib Dums, I print them below.

Lib Dem Results Liverpool

The total pounds cast away are as follows

JOHNSTON, Kevin
FAILED CHIEF OPERATIONS OFFICER, LIVERPOOL CULTURE COMPANY - £50,000 Forgotten Party (No change)
HENSHAW, Sir Diddy
FAILED CHIEF EXECUTIVE, LIVERPOOL CITY COUNCIL AND LIVERPOOL CULTURE COMPANY - £360,000 By Jove Party (Personal Gain)
ARCHER, Robyn
FAILED CREATIVE DIRECTOR, LIVERPOOL CULTURE COMPANY - £375,000 Skippy the Cash Kangaroo (Held)
GREEN,Chris
FAILED CHIEF OPERATIONS OFFICER, LIVERPOOL CULTURE COMPANY - £50,000 No Street Party (Ran)
HARBOTTLE, Jason
FAILED CHIEF EXECUTIVE, LIVERPOOL CULTURE COMPANY - £250,000 Huge leaving party (Not invited)
DICKINSON, Lorna
FAILED CONSULTANT £45,000 A Stunned Fish called Squander party (wet)

As returning officer for the above constituency of Grotty Cash…(where’s my additional £24k?) I declare that from the total cash trashed, the loser is, the people of Liverpool!

Tatty Abide With Me Everybody, Tatty Bye

ELECTION SPECIAL: Grotty Cash 08 - The City Decides....

2008-04-30T09:45:00.016+01:00

By Joe, missus! I mean by Jove!

Election fever is upon us, or was it some dodgy King Prawns I had at the Cuban Eel Bar?

Yes May Day, May Day! We are lost at sea surrounded by Jellyfish and Sharks. Send help! Launch the floating voters! Throw the ballast boxes overboard.

All over Grotty Cash, ladies are ironing their pyjamas to get ready to go out and vote in one of the most nail polishing races ever seen in the city.

Who will be in control on May the 2nd ?

Of course the Glib Dums have been out of control for about seven years. After they pressed the ejector seat on Sir Diddy, and by Jove it was a powerful one to lift all those bags of cash as well, the city has been left in the hands of the hapless Fireman, Yes, by Jove, Wally Bradlow, ably supported by Hilton J. Stilton, with his famous catchphrase, “The Muck Stops Here”

Now some people, Mrs Chucklebutty, actually, are likening the Election to the famous Kennedy vs Nixon Presidential battle, a young, handsome, dynamic and charismatic leader winning over the female voters with his rugged good looks and distinguished service record and then of course there is Bradlow.

I really think Mrs Chucklebutty should have gone to Spec savers. Yes Wally, “would you buy a used Lambanana from this man” Bradlow. Now Red Eye Joe may look a bit like Alfred Hitchcock, but he presents well and at least he has one leadership quality, he can actually put a sentence together in English. You may not agree with it, but it is a sentence and when you want somebody to represent the City at a time of International focus you don’t really want Frank Spencer making the speeches.

Some Pams do ‘ave em. “ leave my little soldier alone!”

“Oohh we’ve ‘ad a bit of trouble, somebody did a whoopsy on Mathew Street.”

To borrow something from Winston Churchill, “up drew an empty cab and out stepped Bradley.” And of course we have all seen the recent defections and de-selections.

Is it four or five who fell foul of the fireman following the ferocious fall-outs? I’m fairly certain it’s at least four so far following all the failures and frequent fights. Who went first? I think Firth was the fourth or was Firth fifth? I think Fraenkel fell out of favour first and they went into free fall following Forde being fitted up in the farcical fixed report into the festival fiasco?……..I beg your pardon Mrs Chucklebutty has me on the F-plan diet and I have started to binge.

By the way, have you heard that the great Cultural spectacular will still go ahead with the company that created the “Consultants White Elephant” bringing a similar spectacular event to Grotty Cash? Now the exact details are a secret but being an advisor to the Custard Company, I can let you know what was on the shortlist for

“La Machine” as they are calling it. The first idea is a 30ft Boot kicking pensioners out of a day care centre but it was thought to be insensitive to the desires of people who, as Bradlow has pointed out, wish to remain trapped seven days a week in their home with a stranger throwing shopping at them a couple of times a week for company. Another idea was a 90ft Headless Chicken riding on a burning Fire Engine.

But I think they will go for the giant Gonewest Bank Cash Machine with the whimsical pin number 2008 spewing over £22 million down a 20ft drain with giant grinning marionettes of Archer, Sir Diddy, Harbottle and co. marching along side filling big sacks. Anyway I mustn’t spoil it, I’ll leave all that to the Custard Company.

So back to the Election! As those of you who read the local newspaper and I use the term as loosely as a seagulls bowels…ooh it can be rough on your nobby styles that paper but Mrs Chucklebutty gets it for the articles about Colleen whatshername, you know, Mickey Rooney’s young lady, that and because it is very good for soaking up the cats accidents, yes the Liverpool Hecko; here no evil, see no evil, print no evil, unless it’s about crime, drugs or mucky medics. The hecko has been running a series of articles about the political issues in Grotty Cash in the election run-up and getting the views of the main party leaders, subtitled “what the Hecko wants.”

The Editor, Mr Gordon Macaroni, the old news hound that he is, has produced a hard hitting list of demands to take Grotty Cash into the 25th century, To Infinity and Beyond, they say in true Buzz Lightbulb style. They have put these demands to the main political leaders to get their response. Here are some controversial examples.

What the Hecko wants!

Trees of green, red roses too friends shaking hands saying how do you do.

WB: “We have had to cut down all the trees in Sefton Park, as they were not in the plans for the original Norman Invasion or even mentioned in the Gloomsday Book, which as you know was signed by the glib dums at 12.15 just after lunch on behalf of the people with the King Johns Ambulance and I can assure you that right now, all our hands are shaking. Just look at where we were 10 years ago..sorry where was I?

JA: “Good Eeeeeeevening ”

What the Hecko wants!

A city that gets its bins emptied and yet cares about the environment (have you no mercy Machray…go easy on them they are only human).

WB: “We have recently dumped a load of blue bicycling bins everywhere in the run up to the local collections which will be emptied if it is a marginal seat or set on fire in which case I will personally put them out when I have more free time. Can I say also Roger just look at where we were 10 years ago…sorry where was ?”

JA: “ Weekly bin collections are vital and we will have to got through every one of them to try and find the £64 million that the Lib Bins have thrown away”

What the Hecko wants!

A clean city with safe open spaces. A city that sets and hits stretching tourism and retail targets and engenders civic pride!

WB: “ Mothers pride? Yes that is the bread and butter of Liverpool One and we will communicate a joint strategy with Hovis construction. But just look at where I was 10 minutes ago….where was I? It wasn’t Las Vegas, you promised not to mention that."

JA: “Our open spaces are the in the financial records of where all the money has gone”

What the Hecko wants!

An efficient sleaze free Liverpool crucially balancing the books

WB: “I’m Jolly Roger….er, I mean I’m sorry Roger but there is no sleaze in Liverpool and I am sure that if there was any evidence or suspicion of it, I would have read about it in the Hecko. We are Liverpool and the glib dums put the LIVE into Liverpool and the POO and for the last 10 years we have been taking the P*** as well, ahh that’s where I was. As for balancing the books, that’s too easy you should see me and Mr Storeyteller balancing bottles of Peroni on our heads.”

JA: "I have to agree with Wally about sleaze, it would be hard to find a shred of evidence, they have shredded it all.”

What the Hecko wants!

(In the voice of John Le Mesurier) A rather lovely bench for Liverpool

WB: “Oh f*** off Roger are you trying to suggest we will loose our seats? Don’t forget my passion comes across as being aggressive sometimes and if I thump you it is only because I care, don’t I mum?”

PB: “Ohh did the nasty man say bad things to my little boo boo? ”

JA: “If there are any spare seats going in the city can we have them? ”

But what of the other parties you all ask? The Hecko spoke to the other main leaders

Hank Kingsley: The Wuthering Liberals

“ Hey noooow! Does that say applesauce? No it’s applause. The Liberal Party in Liverpool is basically me in a striped top or a rugby shirt but with more hair than Anderson. Wally has a full head of hair but it grows from inside his skull, coming out like a coconut so don’t judge us by hair alone. Wally and Stormy have been referred to the Standards boards for their behaviour, however I will pursue them under the Trades Descriptions Act for the use of the word Liberal.”

Sarah Trimmings: Green Party

“The Green vote was started on Opportunity Knocks with a clapometer measuring the carbon applause print of the studio audience. Our famous candidates have included Mary Hopkin, Little and large, Pam Ayres, Les Dawson and Tony Holland the Muscular meat pie man. While others may have jumped on the recycling issue, I always jump on it to flatten more down into the bin. Remember with the Hughie Green party it’s your vote that counts. We will double your money not take it away. And what we say in our manifesto, we mean it most sincerely folks, we really do.

Ray Sistwat: Brutish National Farty

“Grottische Cache Uber Alles!”

Sidney Pringle: Conservative

“ Who me? Ohh ‘ellooo. Oh no, don’t go to the polls, get a British plumber. When is the election? Who is standing for the Tories? Who? Ohhh, stop messin’ about.”

Foghorn Leggarty: A Mayor for Grotty Cash Party

“Now listen here, why can’t we be like London, I say London and follow the example of Dr Livingstone, with an elected, I say elected Mayor. He introduced an Indigestion Charge to cut down on greenhouse gasses and with all the hot air and noxious fumes coming outa the Town hall hen house we need to act fast. We need to have an accountable leader or maybe just an accountant would do. I will also ban the Bernard Matthews Street Festival. Why I lost some good friends last time…finger licken good though MMMMhmmmm!”

Herbert Howe: Side Party

“Its all cut and dried”
_________________________________________

Well ladies and gentlemen, the city is up for grabs. All of the cash has already been grabbed but it is still a two horse race to take over the one star state. And what a state we are in. The McCartney concert with the supposed international line-up is now also a one star concert, so at least there is some consistency.

After witnessing Wally Bradlow's skills and experience over the last two years can you allow him to be voted out and risk him turning up if your house goes on fire?

Many feel that Liverpool desperately needs change. About £60 million in copper would do.

Is Anderson your man? Can he turn off the laughter track and replace it with one where people are laughing with us not at us. Can he stomach the festering cans of worms buried under the Municipal Chuckle Chamber, will he really go in there with a tin opener? Will he even get the chance?

I will say one last thing, as depending upon the results, I hope to retire in May.

I say this as a final gesture of decency and a warning to Wally Bradlow and his Glib Dum chums. If the next time we see you, all your faces are blackened, your hair is standing on end and your suits all smouldering, well I saw MeCogloose running wires from the mains fuse box in the town hall. You said something to her about the election and you needing at least 20,000 votes.

Tatty Fry Everybody Tatty Fry

Love from Professor Chucklebutty

Prof Chucklebutty on Phil Rednose, MeCogloose, ....Justin Rattlesnake, the Nowhere Man and....It's Been a Hard Days Knight for Sir Diddy!

2008-04-16T21:09:00.018+01:00

By Jude Missus,
I mean By Jove, you’ve guessed it, Sir Diddy to the Rescue!
Once again my expertise has been called upon, because I am of course an expert on most things known to man and several things kept quiet from the wife.
Yes, they need me to get the McCartney concert at Anfield back on track before Grotty Cash faces yet another Meryl Streep Festival style PR disaster.
Yet again ladies and gentlemen, the clock is ticking and it all has to be ready to pop and roll by June, by Jove!
What have the Custard company been doing, I asked myself?
How could they possibly be in such a situation with only weeks to go and not a single arrangement made, other than having sold tickets to an event that isn’t organised and with no line up of performers bar one and he isn’t too keen?
What kind of idiots could have let this happen I thought?
So I immediately called a full meeting of the Custard Company, took one look at them and it all became clear.
Mr Donald Wheresmetroosers was unavailable for comment, but I heard that right up until the point that he ran off down Dale Street to try and catch the tram to the airport and go on Holiday, he was negotiating with Googie the Liverpool Duck, trying to line her up as the main support act. (Donald? Duck? No wonder my googie withers).
So first, ladies and gentlemen this is what I faced on trying to get to the bottom of this, the latest in a long line of debacles.
As the meeting began, Mr Phil Rednose, the leading clown in charge of all things custard and with a finger in every pie, looking as usual like a warped negative of Kate Bush being electrocuted, took the lead on behalf of the Custard Company.
He just started to tell me that organising the concert was a bit like “a scouse wedding” at which point a hail of staplers, desk tidy’s and box files hurtled towards him with considerable force, knocking him off of his prototype Bench for Liverpool and burying him on the floor.
As he scrambled back onto his “more than sitting on” bench (I noticed he had a toilet roll tied to it) he went on, that "for those not used to organising events", (that seemed to cover everyone in the room) "this is just a typical moment on the 'long and winding road to……'”
He didn’t get to finish the sentence as a 17” computer monitor hit him squarely on the temple and he fell in a heap silent for the rest of the meeting.
"Howzat!" Somebody cried.
Give me some good news I said to them; give me one thing that has been arranged.
A young lady by the name of MeCogloose jumped up very excitedly and said I have booked the Bouncy Castle!
Well that’s a start, I said, something for the kids.
Then somebody pointed out that it should have been Beyonce that was booked.
Oh, 'who else have you booked then young lady', I said hopefully.'Well, that’s been brilliant', she said. 'I have got all the names from the list of top stars.
Bono
Michael Jackson
Sir Bob
Justin
Even Dame Shirley…loads of them and they have all written to confirm!"
"By Jove, take a bow Miss, we are saved, show me the confirmation letters," I said.
Sure enough she handed them to me, all willing to perform on the night.
"Marvellous," I said leafing through them….until I read the first one!
'The Sir Edward De Bono foundation would be delighted to deliver one of their renowned 2 hour talks on lateral thinking…..
As former Chief of Staff, General Sir Michael Jackson would be pleased to …..
Sir Bobby would be delighted to come to Anfield and meet up with old team mates from the triumphant 1966 squad…
since stepping down from Westminster Council Dame Shirley Porter has been enjoying…..
"Tell me", I said, "Have you confirmed Justin?
"If we have him that will give us the international coverage we need for global TV rights. "
"Global?" She said.
"You mean Gorbals, don’t you?
"Scottish Television is only interested if we get Lulu or the Proclaimers. But Lulu is unavailable and Roger Moore and Tony Curtis haven’t worked together for years. "
"Roger Moore…Tony Curtis?" I said, "what are you…they are the Persuaders!"
"Yes," she said, "that would definitely persuade them if they agree to do it. "
"Just tell me," I said, "have you got Justin?"
"Yes" she said "and it’s even on his website, look."
Well ladies and gentlemen, my sense of relief was short-lived as I watched her type into the website of Justin’s Rattlesnake www.rattlesnakebite.org/index.htm
"It’s Timberlake" I said, very quietly, "Justin Timberlake."
"Don’t be silly," she said, "they make boots and stuff."
Gosh I thought I was scatty! It was at this point I utilised the tried and trusted method for hypnotising a chicken, drawing finger circles on the table in front of her and then pulling away in a straight line.
Always worked with Storeyteller when I was Chuckle Executive.
She went under straight away and sat calmly with a fixed contented expression for the rest of the meeting with just the occasional little squeak.
"Right! Lets’s start from scratch.
"Anfield is booked isn’t it?
"Now, have you made sure there is not a match on?"
Two people ran out of the room and the rest sat puzzled and red faced.
"Good heavens!" I said in disbelief, "so McCartney is just singing, 'there’s a shadow hanging over me' and it’s the referee sending him off for obstruction!
"You have had two years to plan this," I said.
"What have you been doing? Why is there no money?
"You had over 100 million and this is the headline event!!
"I left ages ago - so I haven’t got it!" (the b**tards)
“Well” said Rednose, coming to life or as near as he can manage, “it’s been a hard days….”
"Shut it!" I said!
"Just shut it!"
Then they showed me the plan for filling Goodison Park with water and fish from the Salthouse dock. Apparently Everton couldn’t get anything in the net and it had to be abandoned at a cost of £330,000.
"All right," I said "that still leaves 100 million."
Then they showed me some bin bags full of rags and said "we have been putting these on the lampposts..."
"Keep going," I said.
"Then there was err….the opening event and Ringo that was £35,000 just for him!
“No, no” said Rednose, “I managed to get that down to £95,000….oh er up I mean….which is best up or down?
"Isn’t it more high profile, the more I spend of your money?"
"Then there was all the pay-offs including yours," they said. The cheek of them!
"But we have attracted some big sponsors like Ethel Austen."
"I wouldn’t count on Ethel, right now," I said.
"I think your Midas hand has already touched her."
Then they found the scapegoat they were looking for.
"It’s McCartney’s fault!" they said.
"He tricked Jasper Harbottle by pretending it would bring in loads of money, he’s done nothing to organise this. He just wants to turn up and sing bloody songs!
"We’ve had to negotiate all the deals."
"What deals," I said?
"Well Wally Bradlow has said that it will raise £300,000 for charity."
"No," I said.
"That’s Maccas appearance fee, that he wants to go to LIPA suction the charity for talented fat kids.
"That’s not a deal, that is at his request!
"It is still your money that you haven’t got, so you are making the donation!"
"So he is doing it for free. So why has he demanded that we give him £2 million and let his own production company organise it and take all the credit?" They cried as one.

"Well I am no expert," I said modestly, "but there are a few weeks to go and no support acts, no staging, no sound systems, no rigging, no health and safety confirmation for extra seating, there might be a match on, no television deal, no DVD or CD rights you haven’t even sorted the licence for the Mr Whippy pitch and you have a £20 million deficit, and on this alone you are already £2 million down the pan with a £62 million overall budget deficit at least and you are less than halfway through the Capital of Custard year! You tell me?"

After a few minutes silence, Rednose put up his hand.
"If you are about to incorporate a Beatles lyric into your next sentence I will kill you," I said.
“Yesterday…” he said, as I leapt across the table grabbing for his throat.
“No no…yesterday we decided to review the whole format. He is the star, it’s him people want to see - not Timberland and Whitney Spears, so we have decided to go for something local and more cutting edge."
"Yes, the Parks and Gardens Banjo quartet," said MeCogloose, snapping out of her trance.
"They are the best ‘Edge Cutters I could find. They did Ringo’s head the other week."
Well ladies and gentlemen, as you know it is not like Sir Diddy to admit defeat but I afraid I have to.
It was at that point I left the Fun Palace.
I cannot allow my good name to be dragged out of the mud and back in again by being associated with this farce.
I never want to see the 08 Logo again or the “Brand on the Run” as McCartney calls it.
In the hope I could salvage something I had already called upon my good friend from CityTalkbutnobodyslistening FM, Mr Pete Murray (he’ll knock your block off) to use his celebrity contacts to get me a top line-up to join Sir Paul on the big day, the main event of 2008.
Yes, I had all the stars on standby ready to run out there onto the pitch, thanks to good old Pricey.
Ray Quinn, (of course) Sonia, Bernie Flint, Eatin’ Out (or something) Bernard Hogan and the NDO, Professor Ian Tracey and his Thunderbird 2 Organ, Rick Asthma, OCD, or is it OHMS (something in the dark anyway).
I had Jerry Seinfeld and the Pacemakers, Valerie Pertbottom and the Royal Phillysredmond Orchestra, The Posh Scally G. Rhiuvarb Rhiuvarb and his rude rappy songs, Dr MacIllHook, and thanks to some of my old cabalists for all the rock n roll Dads out there, I even had ABE and Sirenz!
Now I have to tell them it’s all off and McCartney will be appearing with the Wurzells by the sound of it!
So yes Liverpool I have let you down.
The rescue I had carefully planned is not to be ladies and gentlemen.
I am sure Mr McCartney and his people will be able to organise it and make the day a success for those who see it.
One day we may even find out how much it cost along with everything else.
I bet we don’t find out before May 1st.
But you see missus, the problem has been that from day one, the Custard Company only ever had one idea about 2008 and they almost drove the already batty Robbing Archer mad with it. It was to reform the Beatles for 2008 and build everything else around it to attract world attention.
Yes I know we are short by two of them and believe it or not, even the Mandarins, (was Jason one of them? well he was the right colour!) yes, even the Mandarins of the Custard company knew there were only two left.
Nevertheless, they insisted that Archer get Paul and Ringo on stage together whatever the cost with the relatives of George and John, all playing together.
Now it was two years before they realised that Kathleen Harrison was in fact Mrs Thursday and star of the Huggets and no relation. That Sean the Sheep was an animated character, (hence no reply) and of course Julian Clary is a close comedian friend of Norman Lamont and had a hand in his becoming Chancellor.
I think it was Julian Lemon they meant, Cynthia’s Lad.
But on the bright side, the mix-up over Julian also ended some of the silly speculation about who was the fifth Beatle, when it was finally confirmed that it was definitely not, Fanny the Wonder Dog.
Well whatever happens Ladies and Gentlemen, the Concert, the “Liverpool Sound” will still, no doubt, be of music and popular culture and not the sound of national laughter, which would have been the CD, released by the Custard Company if McCartney’s people hadn’t had to step in.
The concert should go ahead in June by which time my dear little friend Wally Bradlow will, if there is any justice in the world, be a Nowhere man sitting in a Nowhere land….Damn!
Bloody Redmond has got me at it now!
Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye
Hope he does The Frog Chorus!
Kneedeep kneedeep..in debt!

THE COMEDY GREATS by Prof Chucklebutty (not to mention the porpoises now swimming in the Mersey...)

2008-04-10T21:50:00.015+01:00

By Jove missus!
I understand that there is great disappointment amongst all those who were unable to get a ticket for my recent lecture “Liverpool The Comedy Greats” - nineteen hours of mirth filled anecdotes and reminsiss… reminisci…..memories of my comedy heroes.
The comic legends that have helped to fill Liverpool with tears and laughter that has spread around the whole country.
So for those of you who missed it, here is just a taste:
The comedy greats ladies and gentlemen, people like Tommy Harbarrow. He was of course best known for “ITMA.”
Are you all old enough to remember what that stands for?
Yes that’s right, ITMA - “I Threw Millions Away”.
And what was the other one that came at the end?
“TTFM “ yes! “Then Took F***ing More”!
By Jove, what a comedian he was.
Not only did he enjoy great personal financial success but he also had several appearances in Las Vegas, with regular cast member Clara Cogloose, who played Lotta Krapp the charlady.
Clara was herself of course already an international star for the long running American TV series about the scatterbrained redhead, “ I Love Loosey”.
She went on to form the company DizzyLoose Productions, responsible for making a number of programmes like, The Untouchables, and Perry Makin and perhaps the most popular programme of all time, Superlambonanza.
Yes who can forget 'Blognanza' as it was later called.
Yes, thanks to Tommy and Clara we got one of the most expensive cowboy productions ever seen.
Now another favourite of mine was, of course, the Big Hearted Halfwit himself, Arthur Bradsley.
The diminutive comic who was best known for jumping on any Bandwagon.
Born in Liverpool’s Wholyunsuitableland in Hoses Street, he enjoyed great lack of success with long time partner “Stinker” Storeyinthedock.
Perhaps their best-known routine was the ventriloquist act where Bradskey would be the aggressive but passionate dummy while the script and words were actually written and performed by ventriloquist Stinker.
The act worked well on radio but Stinker Storey wasn’t as good as he thought and on stage after a while, every time the public saw his lips move, they didn’t believe the act any more.
But my favourite of all time has to be the dry humour and monologues of Rob Hilton, and of course the classic Fireman Sketch.
Do you remember that one?

I said so you have written confirmation about being asked to go to see the Las Vegas show?
He said who?
I said you.
He said me?
I said aye,
He said no.
I said well nobody here can recall asking you to go or that they’d pay for it.
He said where?
I said there.
He said who?
I said them.
He said Oh!“
I said but they’d already seen it and everyone knew that it couldn’t be brought here.
He said what?
I said the show.
He said what show?
I said you know.
He said so?
I said so why should they have paid for you to see it?
He said what?
I said that.
He said when?
I said then, oh just go!
He said, I did and I took the missus as well.

And, of course, the famous monologue “The Day Warren broke out” featuring the two Winters of discontent, Mike and Berni.
I said come on Berni, we’re losing support here, let’s get out there on the doorsteps.
She said hang on while I put me teeth in.
I said we’re looking for votes not pork pies.

Ahh! Great comic performers we may never see their likes again.
I hope!
And now the Epiblog with the Rt Reverend Yaffle Chapplebutty
On a different subject, just a quick word before I go, about the environment.
Since the clean up of the Mersey, it has been reported that Salmon have been returning to our waters.
Now looking at some recent comments over the page in the Submarineculture site, I see that environmental issues have risen to the top of the agenda.
There are sudden fears that the Mersey has been infiltrated by the Common Porpoise. Yes this is a poisonous fish and very costly when a clean-up is made.

So in line with the theme of this page, I have taken advice from the renowned UnderSea Explorer Jacques Custard, who assures me that concerns about the rich pickings of these particular scavengers, and bottom feeders infiltrating the Mersey region are a diversion right now from the real issues.
He tells me that at the moment, they are not the real the anemones and at this time we need to concentrate our efforts on dealing with the existing pond life.
Liverpool they say, is the pool of life, so before the life is sucked out of us we need to get rid of the current leeches.
The Cuban Eels may have gone but there is still danger lurking in the evil coral.
As a matter of interest, the Common Porpoise was coaxed here with the help of the former Deputy Prime Minister John Presscoff to go with his chips and gravy.
You remember him?
He punched Edwina Currie for throwing a salmonella infected egg at him.
And during the BSE crisis, he ate John Selwyn Gummer to prove that condemned meat was safe. Now that was a chance for the Lib Dems to get the upper hand, they could have offered Cyril Smith for afters.
Then again Prescoff would probably have chased him down the street with a knife and fork.
Anyway the CP being a European connected fish has attracted the attention of USNOOZE the anti European party from which most of the fears and conspiracy theories originate.
Just because they have lunch at the Groucho Club, they think they are a Marxist conspiracy, when in fact they welcome idiots from all parties and all walks of life so long as they have vast quantities of money to exchange for tripe, which is their main product.
By Jove, come to think of it they sound a splendid group, ripping off all that money from all sorts and getting their daft ideas taken seriously by high-ranking people. And they claim to be a charity while raking in a fortune. Ha ha!
Brings a tear to your eye.
Just like when I set up the “Liverpool Way” Ha ha!
CP ladies and gentlemen stands for Complete P***take.
But save them for another day.
Surely we have already been drained enough.
Now wash your hands, and gentlemen please adjust your dress before leaving the polling station.

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye

'It's all relative, naturally', says Chucklebutty - The Night of the Penknives, De-selection, Darwen's theory and Status Quo Vadis

2008-03-26T22:46:00.022Z

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 begatted 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 begattings 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!

The Doings of Sir Diddy - his Top Twenty achievements on behalf of the Glib-Dum silly console

2008-03-14T08:55:00.012Z

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

hilton.stilton@grottycash.guff.fcuk

Wally,

As requested here is first draft for list of Glib-Dum achievements.

Achievements

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

------------------------------------------------

Bradlow, Wally

Leaders Office

Room 999

On the ledge of 5th floor, don’t try to talk me down

Municipality of Mirth

bradlow.wally@nee-nah-nee-nah-nee-nah.con

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
----------------------------------------------

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!

Viva Las Freebies and a World Class programme of non-events (2008)

2008-02-29T09:28:00.000Z

By Jove Missus, I am still here!

For those of you wondering how this blog is connected with the programme for Capital of Custard 2008, I intend to utilise today’s entry by updating you all with some of the less publicised events that are happening or being cancelled throughout the year.

But first ladies and gentlemen, once again I have to put the record straight about some scurrilous accusations levelled against my former diddy helper Wee Wally Bradlow.

I refer of course to the recent Viva Las Freebies headline.

Yes it is true, that to celebrate our joint Birthdays, Wally and Mrs Bradlow accompanied Lady Diddy and me to a Bingo weekend at the Las Vegas Housey-Housey Hall in Blackpool.

It was whilst there that Wally saw the advert for “Fireman Sam Live on Stage.”

Now as Cbeebies was due to be one of the first major events at the new Echo Margarine Aroma, it seemed right that Wally should see the show to give technical advice, - should Elvis Criddlington try to put out any electrical fires with a water extinguisher.

(They are not really trained fire-fighters, Wally was keen to point out)

And if the show was to come to Liverpool, he wanted to make sure there were no last minute health and safety concerns that would normally have been ignored by Jasper Harbottle in his capacity of making sure the iron was set right to put the logos on souvenir T-shirts.

With this in mind Wally contacted the Custard Company and asked them to pay for the tickets as he had spent his last three quid on a fortuneteller.

(That was a complete waste of money. She said, “I see no future but a message is coming through, do you know any one called Stan? I have a message for him about his father. Somehow it is linked to your fate. The message is… Stan, Dad’s bored…”)

Anyway I digress, missus, I can tell you right now that Wally did not in fact go to the show as Lady Diddy insisted that we should instead go and see The Krankies as Frank Ifield and Bernie Clifton were in it.

Wally sobbed all the way through it until Bernie Clifton came on and then he had his wonderful idea to engage Bernie to ride his Ostrich (modified to look like a Liver Bird) around Liverpool all summer, showing visiting dignitaries the major attractions of the city.

Director of Financial Mismanagement, Mr Hasitall has already confirmed that, on the charges of :

1) Misusing tax payers money

2) Abusing his position

3) Bullying Custard Company staff.

That he is innocent on all five counts. Er…four counts…er…six.

****************************************************

So missus, back to the programme for 2008 with the sub-title “Liverpool. You Aint Seen Nothing…”

Here are some of the less publicised events from the Redmond Think Tank of the Custard Company and those that got through anyway.

March 1st 'St Diddy’s Day Celebrations'
A special day in honour of the former Chuckle Executive who secured Capital of Custard for the city. The unveiling of a statue made from Church Street pavement bubble gum to be placed at the entrance to the Fourth Grace Will Alsop’s Cloud, no the Eden Project style Aquarium, no the terminus of the Tram System…..to be placed on Storeyteller’s grave.
March 6th Royally Court Theatre “Misleading Cases”
A stage production of the vintage TV comedy starring Alistair Simm and Roy Dotrice. “Call Mr Chris Herpes. So tell me again Mr Herpes, you say you were not posting the offensive items through the letterboxes but were in fact removing them, and that is your defence? Yes I recall a similar defence in the case of the Stanley Park flasher. He was not exposing his gentlemen part to the ladies bowling club but indeed putting it away”

April 1st “Rings of Confidence”
CCTV across the city will capture the bewildered faces of ordinary Liverpool people as thousands of volunteers ring their doorbells and run away. The pictures will be published in a special collection to available from December

31st April 'April Showers'
Misadventure Place opens it’s doors to the public to display the famous Tart Deco shower room. Official Grand Opening by Debbie Harry.

May 10th. 'Unveiling of the Redmond bench'
The chosen design by artist Damian Hurst Called “Brookside end of part one” will feature Our Lord sliced in half and preserved forever as a shrine at which the people of Liverpool may rest and worship at the white buttocks of the Saviour. “Cheek to cheek”

May 14th 'The Tall Chips Race'
2,008 obese youngsters will race against the clock up the stairs of the Radio City Tower to win free chips for a year! Mmmmm!

June 1st 'Brew Ha Ha!'
A cuppa tea with the lovable funny man and broadcaster Pete Price. If you or any members of your family have been affected by listening to the Pete Price Show a helpline is available through Liverpool Direct 0151 233 2008

June 5th Empire Theatre “Waldo Bradlovski” The Memory Man.
A truly amazing show. This man displays astounding feats of memory lapse. Audiences are invited to choose any telephone directory from anywhere in the world and pick a page number, within seconds the amazing Bradlovski will respond with “what page, what telephone directory, I’ve never even been to the Empire”

June 15th 'The Boris Johnson Lecture'
An opportunity for The Custard Company and cabinet members to lecture and advise Boris and to help him improve his skills in the field of professional buffoonery.

June 16th 'The Pump House COC tales for two'
An evening of tall stories and short drinks from the master himself Dickey Mint OBE 7.30 till midnight or until he falls over.

June 21st ImpUnity Theatre 'A Performance Related Play' based on the television quiz “Who wants to be a Millionaire”
A bunch of despotic carpetbaggers take control of the town and fail to answer questions in order to win huge cash prizes.

July 1st 'Viva Espania!'
Flamenco and Ice Cream is the order of the day as Harbottle Associates bring the Magic of Spain to Liverpool from the back of a car boot.

July 12th Orange Day Parade
The people show their gratitude to Jasper Harbottle for agreeing to take an additional £230,000 of their money and for his grand legacy of £20Million of debt. They carry him shoulder high to the Pier Head to a rousing reception at the foot of the Three Graces and then toss him into the Mersey.(Chorley Not?)

July 18th 'Storeylamebanana'
As the little yellow nana pops up all over the city, it’s your chance to cover the this much loved slippery, yellow little fleecer in whatever you think most appropriate.

July 21st Croxteth Country Park The return of “One Man and His Dog”
Sir Diddy and his Rotweiler, Doc, savage the sheep at the Children’s Farm and force the public to buy lamb chops at treble the normal cost.

July 28th The Mole of Edge Hill Exhibition.
“Williamson’s Flannels” a collection of face cloths used by Arthur Williamson, known throughout 18th century Liverpool for the unsightly mole on his cheek. As the mole grew larger and tougher this fascinating exhibition shows the wear and tear on his flannels creating a pattern of increasingly large holes that Williamson eventually had mounted onto canvas to frame painted miniatures of local parish councillors. “A load of old flannel” is free to the public.

July 30th 'Ringo Starves'.
The much-loved Beatle and son of Liverpool returns to his former home in the Dingle and will be bricked up alive. The show is expected to last several days. On his demise, a plaque will be erected outside saying “Ringo Starr, Liverpool born and Brown Bread, from the people of Liverpool. We were this close to letting you out.”

August 1st 'The Summer Pops'
Under the direction of Clear McCogloose, she has arranged for 3 crates of Dandelion and Burdock, 200 cans of Irn Bru, 40 bottles of Tizer and a can of lilt to be handed out for free at Aintree Racecourse.

August 2nd 'The Skint Exhibition'
Tate Liverpool an extraordinary lack of gold and riches is the hallmark of this exhibition where the art is in the hanging out to dry and framing rather than the actual picture.

August 2nd 'Oh shit, we forgot Matthew Street'!
Details to be announced.

Currently no further events are guaranteed to take place apart from Bonfire Night and Christmas. It should be noted however that the Custard Company has organised the Christmas Celebrations for the City.

Dec 25th A Giant Chocolate Egg will form the centre-piece for the Bonnet Parade as we join together to celebrate the birth of the infant Easter Bunny. A Carrot Service will be held at St Georges Hall at midnight.

Tatty bye Everybody

Tatty bye!

DIDDY THE KID GIVES RED-EYED JOE SOME ADVICE ABOUT KLONDIKE PHIL, DOC MCILHOLIDAY AND UNDERTAKER STILTON

2008-02-10T14:49:00.000Z

(In a departure from my usual whimsy and tattyfilariousness, due to recent events, we appear to have reached a critical point following the inevitable national humiliation brought upon us by the assembled collective of the silly consul, whereby total national discomknockeration has now undone all of my previous hard work in rebuilding the reputation of this great cashcow.....er city! As a result, I fear no jocular comment from me, in addition to those surrounding the plight of “Sheriff” Wally Bradlow and Muck Storey OBE (Oh Bollocks, End-game) could stretch the chuckle muscle any further without serious risk of clack injury. I therefore offer some sober analysis and advice in the popular and current idiom)

By Jehosophat Ma’am, it’s me, Diddy The Kid!

I been readin’ the Dirty Washingtown Post, and that there Stinky Ink Bartlett, says there’s over 60 million dollars a missin’ from the community chest, and by all accounts (or those they’ll let anyone see) the Sheriff was last seen a headin’ for the Mexican border.

Looks like Doc McIllholiday needs to git some law ‘n order back into Grotty Cash Gulch.

Seems things was goin’ just fine ‘n dandy till them critters from the Audy Murphy Commission came in, and like the critters they are, they started a crittercisin’.

Says you aint nothing but a one horse town! That’s what I call fightin’ talk! Who cares about havin’ only one horse, when you got a Cabinet full a mules!

Now I know that the town Undertaker, the richest stiff fixer in the West, Hilton J Stilton, says “Hows a come if we got three horses for shootin’ and three horses for all the new saloons, we end up with just one fer the town? Huh, huh, huh? It jus’ don’t seem fair!” Well listen up and I’ll tell ya boy! Cos Bowleg Bradley and that crazy School Teacher aint even got the guts to ask a jackrabbit where it hid all the carrots.

Your Bank Manager, Klondike Phil, thinks you gotta keep the bank empty so it don’t get robbed and then when the Sheriff tries to look in the vault, Klondike jus’ kicks dirt in his face an says “There, ya see what ya done we aint got nothing cos a you!!”

Then the Sheriff runs over to the school house a blubberin’ and a wimperin’, and the best he and the School Teacher can do is start a scheming and conniving like two old spinsters hankerin’ for attention. Yep, spinsters aint got no balls either!

And now you all got yerselves into a whole heap a shinola for actin’ like a riverboat load of Merseysippi gamblers. Just fillin’ your saddlebags fast and as often as you can!

Now, Mr Undertaker, you listenin’, Stilton? If you aint one of the Jackrabbits, you sure been sittin with ‘em long enough to know huntin’ season shoulda started a long time ago!

So let me warn ya pardner, you better trim any sign of a fluffy tale an pull your hat down over those ears, cos right now you’re looking like Rabbit Stew from where I’m sittin’ (In a lovely penthouse apartment in Manchester actually missus, you bought it for me too! Ha ha, By Jove! Right, back into character….)

You boys been on a big fat winnin’ streak so long you got gold fever!! Didn’t you learn anything from me? You gotta know when it’s time to fill your boots and move on! You got your stash safe, you don’t milk a cow til it’s dry or it gits sore. And when that happens, you need an udder plan (Boom boom! By Jove!)

You boys jus didn’t know when t’ quit did ya? You been spending money like there’s no tomorrow, mainly on yourselves, gamblin' on not getting found out!

One more spin of the wheel, one more spin, hit me, hit me!

Yup! well it looks like this could be high noon.

So this is my advice and it's hard fer me to give it cos this is some of my old posse I’m talkin’ about!

First you got a get rid of the Twelve Fingered Bank Manager, Klondike Phil. Why that varmint can’t even count!

His idea of looking after your money is to hand it all out to any old Pink medicine man that asks for it and pay off all the no good the hustlers who ride into town, (like…....me, Yeeeeeehaaaaaaaaa! By Jove yes!)

He allowed a private railroad to be built runnin’ from the Town Hall to Vulture Place carrying all your money to Doc McIllholiday and his gang, even though everybody knows that the Doc’s gang are a bunch of graspin shower singin’ tricksters hoodwinkin’ every nickel outa ya!

And then when you ask Klondike where it’s all gone, he starts a preachin’ and actin like he aint never seen a dime of it, and has the gall to remind you that he can step in and take over the town to put it right! (That’s my boy!)

Well, let me tell you straight, there’s a mighty high chance that the Sheriff is gonna get ambushed by his own deputies. And if I were you Sheriff, I would stay away from the Saloon Bar run by that flirty dancin’ girl Chin-chiller Flo, cos believe me the Klu Cas Klan aint to be messed with.

And if we’re talkin’ about bein’ hungry for power, then Fat Belly Dick, the Marbrow Man has got one mighty appetite. You heard the sayin’ "so hungry I could eat a horse?" Well if Fat Belly Dick rides in you’ll be a no horse town!

And don’t forget Calamity Kemp, the man who put the Cowboy into Boote! He’s the guy that let the Boote Ranch Estate turn into a Ghost Town, you gotta make sure that the hauntin’ don’t never stop! Pretty sure the folks he left behind have reserved a special plot for him, if he ever gets the brass neck to show up again.

Now what about the guy who already has the Stetson and ranch coat, Clein? Hmmm I kinda like the name, German for Diddy, ya know? But the guy is another maverick like Calamity Kemp, liable to shoot before he knows what he’s aimin’ at.

An you can forget Tumbleweed or Antrobush whatever his name is, I never liked him, why that no good rattlesnake once said that I tried to blackmail and threaten the school teacher! Me? As gentle a heart and a soul as you could hope ta meet. No….. “A SOUL” I said!

Well, whatever those losers do to try and avoid a lynching, come springtime for Stilton, there may be, just maybe, another gang ready to ride in and take over.

Red Eye Joe and his gang are on the outskirts of town.

Now if Red Eye aint gonna be turned into Cotton Eye, by the Evil Corral, then he is gonna need to come in shootin from the hip and run the crooks and deadwood outa town. Cos if he don’t, he is gonna be another patsy like the sheriff.

If you wanna take this town and keep it, you gotta see off my old boys once and for all and that aint gonna be easy! Cos remember, I trained them and they still come to daddy diddy for advice!

Are you a match for Doc? Cos if you aint and you don’t sort out his gang, you may as well get measured for your casket right now. (See if the Undertaker has his tape out behind your back)

First they is gonna wine and dine ya, offer to polish your shoes, tell ya how pleased they are to have a new sheriff, let you into a few little secrets til you is hooked and so reliant on them you’ll need them to tell ya what day it is and which end to wipe! Yup! That’s my boys!

So Joe, we’ll know soon I guess, if you are up to a showdown or if we will be able to make you lie down and just tickle your belly like an old hound dog.

It’ll be up to you and your gang, you probably won’t be able to do it alone, and may need to call in the federal marshals and the Pinkerton Agency to open up everything, and I mean everything if you want to win back the trust of the towns folk.

For a while, that’s gonna hurt, real bad and there may be a lotta shootin and blood runnin’ down the steps of city hall. But as a great man said recently, (Mr George W. Thrush): “ Fool me once shame on you, fool me ya fool, ya fooled me again and then…...don’t laugh at me cos I’m a....….Mr Grimsdale!!!!)

In other words if you leave a mongoose to look after the hen house, don’t be surprised if you find no eggs for breakfast, your ass gets plucked and you end up covered in chicken shit!

Tatty Bye Pardners, tatty bye!

By Jove, I must remember to take me spurs off in the bath!

P-DIDDY AND HIS BAND 'GRAB THAT', WITH PHIL SPECTREDIRECTOR AND THE FORMER MEMBERS OF CULTURE CLUB - NO 1 FOR FINANCIAL MISMANAGEMENT...!!!!

2008-02-04T00:32:00.000Z

By Jove Missus, great news!

As many of you will know, I have been trying to cash in on the popularity of Old Boy Bands and promote them on my Radio Station, Bighead FM.

Then I got a marvellous idea while fondly looking at some old emails sent by Rory Storey, and how they helped me get on in the world.

I would put my own Boy Band together.

I thought let’s do it P-Diddy!

But it will need some skilled financial mis-management.

So, with that in mind, I looked to the man that has not only been at the forefront of helping to promote “My Boy” Bands but who has also presided over the Number 1 Financial Mismanagement in the country, Phil Spectredirector.

I thought, Hasitall!

He was one of my closest Diddymen at Cabal Records - and if anyone can help me pull together a rich pool of talentless pop idles it’s him!

A wonderful man, modest to the point of incredulity, never takes any of the credit for getting to the Number 1 spot.

Well, I didn’t have to wait long and within just a few months - for only £230k - we have managed to get Jason Orange (aka Jasper Harbottle) to join the ranks of my very own Boy Band, GRAB THAT!

And even better, thanks to the Spectre and Phil/Colin's collaboration, the money has all been donated by my loyal former subjects - the good people of Liverpool from their very own pockets, or at least it will be when they get their Serf Tax demand.

I can’t thank the kind hearted people of Liverpool enough for their financial support, without which we wouldn’t have our top line up, the talentless trio, joining me to bring music and laughter to the nationwide and other accounts.

So a big thank you for all the money you have given to get the boys together - Jason 230k, Chris 50k, Kevin 50K - and my thanks as well for all the help from Warren 50cents.

You may have noticed that all the band are former members of Culture Club.

But that means we are ready to re-release some of those great hits like “cowwa, cowwa, cowwa, cowwa council comedians, they come and go, they come and go, they come and go, oh”

And the biggest news is that now we have Harbottle, we are hoping to go on our European tour soon, starting in Spain, the Costa Bradlow and culminating in joining Macca himself at Anfield, who rumour has it, will be joined by Blondie, to watch Sir Pole McSlidey.

I think there is a Star Trek convention on at the same time - somebody told me that dozens of tickets have got Enterprise already written all over them. (INTERESTING, EDS)

Now I know what you are thinking, GRAB THAT! was never the same without Robyn Millions - the Aussie Osborne of Tasmanian puppet ballet cabaret.

But dear fans let me remind you, her initially promising hit “Let Me Entertain You” was only in the charts for a couple of weeks before she disappeared from the pop scene without a trace of £375,000.

But Robyn, if you’re reading this, “We want it back, we want it back for good”

Now of course the big thing these days is the elusive X Factor and if Einstein a Go Go was right and x = CEX squared (or cornered) then it is pretty certain that by May - or a lot sooner - we could be joined by the X leader of Style-less Council!

No names, no fire drill.

But remember with the X Factor, it’s the public who can decide in the end.

But a word of warning missus, don’t fall for those phone-in scams, vote in person, don’t dial any of those dodgy 233 numbers, those call centres are ripping you off for millions!

Ha, ha I should know!

All the results get Doctored!

So if you want to see us performing, we are hoping to get a gig at the Royal Court.

Sorry, I know many of you would prefer the Crown Court, but that’s Showbiz!

And we are prepared, as ever, to take what we can get.

And by Jove, we’ve got a lot!

And to think - really it’s all yours!

Ha ha, that’s why Liverpool will always hold a special place in my wallet.

The generosity of scousers is legendary.

In fact, it’s unbelievable!

People laugh when I tell them, but its true ladies and gentlemen!

God bless the good people of Liverpool for their generosity and humour.

Thanks to them we are already laughing all the way to the bank before we’ve even released our first single!

Maybe we can get a gig at the next Mathew Street Festival too?

Yes, don’t see why not, just one step farther is all we need!

Anyway, say nothing for now, Sirenz is golden!

Don’t forget when you do come to see us, bring the kids, there’s ice cream in the interval, all the way from Spain.

By Jove yes!

Capital of Culture 2008 will be remembered as the event that launched GRAB THAT!

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty Bye

Not ‘Arf Pop Pickers.

THAT ORIGINAL TERRY POLISH, THE 47 POLISHERS, FOHORN LEGGATTY, FATTY MARBROW AND A COMEBACK FOR JEFFREY ARCHER????????

2008-01-31T18:49:00.000Z

By Jove!

Some comments from a fan and the Notorious Blare on this so called Blog!

Thank you gentlemen or ladies as the case may be.

I fear though, I can take no credit...although I will take cash....for the appearance of this blog.

My humble role is merely a scribe with quill, ink and carrier pidgeon, offering guidance and insight to the good people of Mirthyside, whilst putting the record straight on my charity work, which as you know begins at home.

I had to challenge the wicked accusations of bedivilment and discomknockeration levelled against me and my former Diddymen, by the original Terry Polish, who began this blog followed by 47 others claiming to have the same name.

They can't fool me, that's why they use that picture of Dirk Douglas. It's the old "No, I'm Snagglepuss!" line.

When all 47 of them suddenly disappeared, suffering from suckertash, Terry's Polishers with their more colourful use of language (mainly blue missus, although they have toned it down, no pun unintended) resurrected this damn thing again.

Now they have provided me with this specific tab, not in support of my wisdom and advice but, I fear, to mock me and make it appear as if my articles and contributions are a joke.

Look at the photographs they use!

Me hair all over the place like Cherie Booth!

Either that or they put up some picture of a constipated hamster that somebody has put a pair of specs on.

Never mind the Standards Board, I am going to the RSPCA!

No mention in the profile of my first class honours degree in speed sausage knotting or that I am a qualified balloonist, yes I can make a poodle in six seconds!

But nevertheless I will continue to fight them and make sure the good people of this fine metrollopus are able to see the other side of the coin, while they still have any coins left.

Oh too late!

I thank you for your support in advance of any decision I may make to stand for Elected Mayor. However, Foghorn Leggarty would no doubt launch a smear campaign which could tarnish the fine reputation I have built up for the city and risk further damage to my legacy.

Now living in Mirth of Tydfill over a disused mineshaft where I keep me valuables, I am probably no longer eligible to stand.

However if the money is right or if there is any left, I could be tempted!

If you want a Mayor for Liverpool, then there are really only two candidates that the public would go for.

The loved and much missed, Fatty Marbrow with his old sidekick Frank Pirrelli dump Dorman as his Mayoress.

A potential Dream Ticket there, depends what you eat before bed. In Marbrow's case everything!

Failing that for Mayor and Mayoress, Peacemaker and now Mersey ferry captain, Jolly Marsden and Sonia.

Both fine, decent, honest and genuine down to earth people......I suppose that rules them out then?

Hang on I have Jeffrey Archer's number here somewhere...I'll get back to you.

Tatty bye Everybody Tattybye

THAT SIR DIDDY INTERVIEW WITH JONES THE RHOS IN FULL, PLUS - THE LIVERPOOL H8 CD, RORY STOREY AND THE SHENANIGANS AND CHAS CREOLE!!!!!

2008-01-24T22:13:00.000Z

By Jove, Missus!

Have you seen the headlines following my guest appearance on the Wicked FM Welsh radio show, 'Friday night with Jones the Rrhos'?

“Fury over Sir Diddy Comments on Rrhos The Interview”

When asked by Rrhos what Diddy missed most about Liverpool, he laughed.

Somewhat taken aback Rrhos said: "I waaaasn’t expecting laughter boyo, is there anything you miss about Liverpool?

“Err, the money” replied Sir Diddy……..

Many people are now saying that Sir Diddy’s return to Liverpool for the opening event was a cynical manoeuvre to remind people of how bloody awful it could have been.

Leader of the City Inconsolable, Wally Bradlow said: "It is sad that Diddy chose not to make up a load of sentimental toss about the city.

"We welcomed him to the event with an open expenses account.

"There’s a lot going on he could have talked about….all the grotty things that we have been busy covering up.

"The Shakespeare company is doing one of his finest comedies, rewritten for Liverpool, 'Two Gentlemen on Perroni'

"We certainly won't be inviting him to this year's Mathew Street Festival…is it on?

"Having spent some time with Diddy, his comments disappointed me and I really thought he was bigger than that."

Comments from local people included:"String him up!"

"Punch him on the chin, if you can find it."

"I think Pete Bounds - the one they got rid of - would have been better."

"He is just too used to the Hollyhead lifestyle."

"He was just here to promote his crap CD 'Liverpool H8 Figure'"

"What a heel!"

By Jove, ladies and gentlemen, having left Liverpool still feeling full of plumtiousness and other free booze at the Malmaison, I wake up next day to find - according to a city opinion poll - I am public enemy Number One, overtaking Hitler, Tarby, Spring Heeled MacIllhinney, Boss Hogg, from the Dukes of Hazard and Beryl Barmpot.

I’ll bet half of the people making these comments didn’t even see my interview!

So missus, to allow you to make up your own mind, I offer the full edited and fiddled about with transcript of my interview, to allow the good and fuuurrrrr…..fuuurrr, we say in Liverpool, fuurrr minded people to decide for themselves.

Here it is.

MUSIC FADES

Rrhos: "The house band, ladies and gentlemen, Four Executive Diwectors and a Fiasco!

Now, shall we bwing the next guest on?

(Audience screaming no and running for exits)

Rrhos: "Here he is, ladies and gentlemen, the one and only, thank god, Sir Diddy Upstart!"

Diddy: "By Jove, they all love me. Love and peace missus. By Jove yes, you look like you’d love a piece.

"Can I say how tickled I was to be in Liverpool last weekend for the City of Custard.

"Where’s me CD? Show em me CD!

"Yes, I was tickled 35,000 times…in cash! What a wonderful weekend.... Hartlepool is great!"

Rrhos: "Now I see you’re still giving it the fingers, wubbing your thumb acwoss them."

Diddy: "Well yes, I’m still trying to spread love of cash. Love of cash everyone!"

Rrhos: "So the only thing you miss is the money?"

Diddy: Well the crowd was excited, so I had to say I was this close to coming back for some more.

"But the Custard Company has spent it and all the budget for the next few years.

"Don’t get me wrong, Liverpool is great, I grew rich there. I have accounts there. But you know. you can only get away with so much before you laugh so hard all the way to the bank that you rupture your clack."

Rrhos: "Now you have had another caweer and been in a few films."

Diddy: "Yes I was great. I played a Robbing Australian Archer alongside Marlon Bradley.

"We were friends for two weeks and then nothing. But he used to come into breakfast meetings with me and start counting the spoons and I’d say 'look, he’s counting the spoons'. Marvellous!"

Rrhos: "I was looking at one of your other movies recently - not the one pwoduced by council staff when you were Chuckle Executive, “Help” - but the more wecent one Health!

"And the humour in that still shines thwough. A fat little gnome lecturing about health and fluffing his lines is still hilarwious.

"Lets’s face it you were cwap. Still available on Youtube. In fact I am gonna make the kids watch it if they don’t go to bed.

"Now we found this photo of you outside a bank in Liverpool, so who are these guys?"

Diddy: "Oh by Jove, that’s Rory Storey and the Shenanigans!

"And you see him, on the end, he was the Jimmy Kendricks of his day!

"And that’s Macca, the dog!

"You know whenever we went away, in those days, we had to take a blonde. I wonder where she is now."

Rrhos: "But you are wearwing big pink money belts. I imagine it must have taken some bottle in Livepool with all the cuts in services to wear that?"

Diddy: "Those moneybelts were useful. When they tried to corner us, we said. 'hey we got moneybelts' and they just handed me another £380,000!"

Rrhos: "So let’s talk about your new CD Liverpool H8.

"Now not only is this on CD, but it is, look at this, available on ligature, I haven’t seen this before!"

Diddy: "Yes, a friend of mine, Chas Creole produces these from his modest offices in Freepark.

"You can wear it around your neck and strangle yourself to death listening to my lectures."

Rrhos: "Diddy, it’s been wonderful to have you here! Give me your bank account number and keep spweading love of cash.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Sir Diddy!"

(Audience hisses)

End of Interview.

Rrhos: "So, Sir Wichard of Attenborwough, were you ever tempted to shag an Iguana?"

(Cut transcript)

So there you have it missus. I was great!
Lovable, full of plumptiousness and really selling the City of Custard.
Of course, now in Liverpool they are going to have to sell everything to pay for it.

So pop down to the Oh H8 place and show your support by purchasing one of the 08 commemorative products produced by the Royal Dickie Mint “Tears for Souvenirs.”

They are going at cost price - only £1.00 each - and we have at least 26 million of them to shift.

Unfortunately Liverpool Direct is charging the council £2.20 to sell them.

Different budget lines, different lines. It’s all legal.

Ha ha!

By Jove, my Diddymen learned well from the Squire of Grotty Cash and my diddy love child Doc the MacIllMarmaliser.

We get by with a little help from our friends.

Tatty Bye everybody, Tatty Bye!

SIR DIDDY'S NEW HEALTH VIDEO, TALES OF THE RIVER BANKS, AUDIT MURPHY, MONEYPENNY AND THE PROBLEM OF LOSING A FEW POUNDS...

2008-01-23T08:42:00.000Z

By Jove!

My new video has even knocked Pamela Sanderson and Colin...I mean Paris Hilton, off the top of the charts for the highest number of web hits in the Hot and erotic category.

I am sure i heard one of the critics the other day saying that I may be one of the biggest hits of all time. (I think that's what he said)

Yes missus, it really is me on the silver screen, not a Hammy Hamster stunt double.

No it's not Johnny Morris doing Tales of the River Bank any way I preferred Tales of the Nat West, HSBC Lloyds, Barclays or any other bank.

Yes me missus.

Me Sir Diddy.

One-Take Diddy they call me now. And then take a bit more. And then take a lot more!

Ha ha!

Anytime now the diddyphone may ring with the call from Hollywood! A star is born!

A dwarf star. All the biggest stars were diddy you know missus! Yes, by jove!
None of the big Hollywood names were over four foot ten.

Audit Murphy.

Cash n Cary Grant.

Edward G. Robbin-sod.

Walter Pension.

All diddy and standing on a box to kiss the leading lady....unless it was Lassie.

Even today's stars are all diddy...the wee scientology collective, like Tim Cruise...I could take over his role for the next instalment of "Mission Insufferable IV"

Yes, your mission Sir Diddy, should you choose to accept it is to steal the plans for an Atomic Tickling Stick!

By Jove, I could be the next.....how dare you madam! No not Fatty Arbuckle... I was thinking of James Bond.

Yes 007!

I'll do anything if it has lots of 000s involved...

I already refer to the wife as Moneypenny, during those private romantic moments when I am whispering bank statements into her ear.

"So Blofeld, you expect me to do a good job?"

"No, Mr Diddybond, I expect you to make a complete balls-up and run off with a bucket of cash"

(Goldsphincter) Who would have thought that the NHS would be my launch pad to stardom.

So all those Big Brother auditions were a waste of time and when I finally did get on, the camera crew voted me out before the public got to see me!

But this is all for the future missus, have you watched my video on health yet?

The proper one I mean not the fakes put out by these blog types.

That naked fat lady being sick in a bucket is not me!

It wasn't easy you know, by jove!

Three days in make-up before the camera lens stopped cracking.

They even brought in a personal trainer but i refused to go on set unless they brought the other one...and the laces.

The Director said I had to lose a few pounds and I almost had a heart attack, but it was weight he meant...

By Jove, I had a cold sweat.

I'm not overweight I said....its the money sewn into the lining of my stomach. We are not bringing back Cinerama just for you fatty, he said. What? I said.

How dare you, I'll have you know I do a regular work-out.

Every morning I work out the overnight interest on my bank account. Believe me that gets my heart rate going. Then they sent in a make-over lady...She looked me up and down and then smacked me in the face with a big shovel. That's the best i can do she said.

I must have been concussed as all i could hear for a few minutes was loud applause and cheering.

But really ladies and gentlemen download diddy right now.

The message i give to the north west is clear.

If you want to end up...... a fat bloated wheezing buffoon who can't read a sentence off a cue-card...oh sorry i was looking at the wrong piece of paper then....no idea what that is....got mixed up with the fan mail...(thanks Doc x)

No you have got to keep fit and have a healthy diet. All you working class wheezers with your fags and carry-outs, for goodness sake i plead with you, turn your back on the chippy and MacDonalds, go to a proper Michellin star restaurant and get a good bottle wine with a proper Appellation Controlle.. .Thunderbirds are No! (that was my own joke)

Oh by Jove, the phone is ringing....Hollywood...hello yes....this is Sir Diddy.... yes i have seen Bugs life....yes i know Antz....yes I agree, computer animation has had it's day... live action...similar theme you say......the lead role?.. yes i'm available...say the title again?....Parasites....!!!??

Wrong number!

Tatty bye Everybody....parasites??...Tatty-bye

WIRRAL EXCLUSIVE: PROF CHUCKLEBUTTY GIVES HIS VERDICT ON ADOBE ACROBATS, THE CUSTARD COMPANY AND RUDE VAN WINKLE...

2008-01-20T01:01:00.000Z

By Jove! It's me Sir Diddy, here to celebrate with you.
Today, to mark this historic occasion, instead of my usual frivolity, I offer you a serious address.
No, not me house in Aigburth - “Stillgrabbin” - I’ve flogged that, although it still hurts that I couldn’t get at that 50 pence piece that fell behind the old boiler.
Well, Lady Diddy is hard to shift after a hard day at the factory knotting sausages.
Here Ladies and Cheltenham, on what should have been a special day for me, had I not been forced to retire on wealth grounds, is my speech to open the Capital of Custard, 2008.
They wouldn’t let me make it on the night, even though it was though my glorious leadership that we won it.
Instead, the crowd got a few ramblings from the Anaemic Mermaid herself, Phyllis Redmond, the man who turned the custard company around, so they couldn’t see that he’d done nothing for five years.
“We did it,” he proclaimed!
Through a mouth that looks like somebody sat on a pasty.
“It’s like a scouse wedding!” So you’re all condemned to years of fighting and misery trying to pay for it.
What an inspiration!
Had I still been at the helm this is what you would have got at the Sir Diddy Arena (as it should have been called)
By Jove Missus, We did it!!!! It’s been like a scouse wedding here…..('hang on cut that bit' - Lady Diddy)
Yes, by Jove, Capital of Custard 2008.
Can you all see me at the back? What do you mean you can’t see me at the front? Can somebody get me a bigger box?
Welcome to Liverpool, the year in which Liverpool itself is the show!
After five years of the Custard Company using every opportunity to make a show of us, it has arrived at last. Here we are in a giant shed in the docks.
Yes I know many of you have wanted to see me in the dock for a long time.
Did you all go on Friday?
What a spectacle it was on the steps of St David’s Hall. It left the crowd wanting more, you could here thousands of voices winding back down Lime Street saying over and over again “Is Da F**kin it?”
Nearly three million quid spent on that box of Bengo matches and the three rockets trading standards confiscated in November. Thirty-five minutes of quality entertainment and Pete Price.
Unfortunately the planned opening choral piece from the Grotty Cash Asbo Ensemble, singing my very own theme song, “Pick a pocket or two” had to be postponed when they were all arrested during rehearsals.
I have enlisted the help of renowned Liverpool lawyer and pothole expert, my old sparing partner, Sir Rex of the Hesperus to get the choir released. As you know, I will do anything for a tenor.
Did all enjoy the aerial artistes? That was a mistake you know.
Young Clara MeCogloose was showing Jasper Hottlebottle a sketched out proposal to have a Toxteth Riots sequence on the steps outside the hall, the custard company’s idea of how to engage communities, and Hottlebottle said could you do it with Adobe Acrobat.
So MeCogloose, who is a bit daft in one ear, promptly rushed off looking for some dozy acrobats. Well ladies and gentlemen the idea of the aerial acrobats clearly captured the imagination of the people of the city.
I was touched by the hundreds of requests by people asking to see me suspended from a rope as the main feature for the grand opening.
Unfortunately I suffer from Vertigo with Sagittarius, the Robbing Archer on the cusp. That’s why I can only go to grade 6 Cuban heels. Yes missus, otherwise I get Diddy Spells!We have a spectacular show for you tonight!
Those of you who know me know that I am a great supporter of our wonderful Liverpool Phil. No not pasty face Redmond! The Philharmonic!
I understand that Arriva have given one of their finest conductors the night off to be here with us.
What’s his name again? Petroleum Jellyco..who? Vascular….Verysilly….Potato? I can’t read this… thought you had spell checked! Is it Raphael Benetton ? What happened to the other fella…Simon Throttle?
Anyway, they’ll be knocking out a few numbers later, including, from the Lib-Dem Book of Patriotic Songs, Land of Hopeless Storey and Rule Blog Ban Ya, along with old favourites, The Plight of the Bumbler Bradley and Amazing Gross Misconduct.
Later for the kids and the Leader, we have some cartoons. The Bugs Bunny Men, Pete Wylie Coyote, Sonia the Hedgehog, MacElhinney the Pooh (that’s a euphemism) The Wombats of Wimbledon, Foghorn Leggarty with his Rooster for Mayor campaign and of course the one and only Pingu Starr from The Arctic Monkees. He’ll be performing in his new singlet again plus the classic hit, “What would you do if I once sang in tune”
Pingu will be signing copies of his new release at the Arena later this evening and all next week in the Pound Shop on Breck Road. I hear Frankies Gone to Holly Oaks so they wont be here.And despite attempts by a local politician to prevent Farm products being brought in to the Arena, following his experiences of foot in mouth, it has been agreed he will hide in the Ladies when they come on stage to perform their renowned anthrax, er anthem, “All the money’s gone”
There’s more, Ladies and gentlemen, by Jove an authentic voice of Liverpool youth, it says here, then he must have accidentally slipped by the Custard Company to be on stage here tonight, unless he’s the son of one of them, RudeVanWinkle will be performing his rap tribute to Liverpool 08…. here’s a short taster. Riuven is it?
“Liverpool, it’s 08
you gonna pay for it mate
cos the guys with the purse
been nothin’ but a curse
now it’s here
and the beer
is sellin’ at a rate
that I cant afford a drink,
what I got to celebrate?
You had five years bro,
to plan and you fail
Wasting money you aint got,
you should be in Walton gaol
What you’ve done to the people,
will be done to you I hope
When you’re in the prison shower,
bendin’ down for da soap”
By Jove, Missus, cover the vicars ears, that brings tears to your eyes!
A very Rude Van Winkle.
Finally to say to you all, whatever this bunch of rogues and halfwits supposed to have been leading this have or have not done over the last five years, the hard working staff and ordinary decent Liverpool people involved at the front line of all this have been doing their best to make it a meaningful year beyond the earnings and egos of the incompetent bunch of self serving, self important, careerist money grabbing opportunists trying to claim the credit….well imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so thank you.
Many, if not most, of the events and highlights would have happened anyway but at least this year you might pop along to them and even enjoy them.
If you can get something out of it wonderful, personally, I can’t. all the big money has gone so I’m off back to my new adopted home away from Grotty Cash and back to Mirth of Tydfil in Wales.
Liverpool I left you and I always let you down.
So c’mon Liverpool, get down with D.Diddy and let’s party….sorry special free invitation only to Malmaisson.
No Scousers.
Yakkie Da Everybody Yakkie Da!

THE CHUCKLE BROTHERS, HARBOTTLE, FORDE MUSTHANG AND THE MUNICIPALITY OF MIRTH

2007-12-20T15:57:00.000Z

By Jove, Missus!

I have remained silent on this matter for too long, but only because of a gumboil aggravated by an underground yodelling accident.

They can’t touch you for it!

But Sir Diddy is back to tell you that this would never have happened when I was Chuckle Executive, by Jove no, the £250k would have gone into my account!

Poor Wee Hamish, the hapless fire bobby, clearly led astray by the master storeyteller, Dicky Mint, still doing his hair like a dogs bottom with sweaty haemorrhoids (as Lady Astor used to say about Queen Mary)

He still has that same blotto hound-dog look crossed with some kind of terrier…first time I met him I thought he was a little Shitzu.

Wee Hamish wasn’t a bad little lad, when I was there, he used to run into my office all excited to tell me about a burny building he'd seen and how the fire engine made squirty water but that he always got the fire hose mixed up with the petrol pump and got shouted at.

He used to help me play a little game I invented to hide all the money away safe in case there was ever a fire!

He’d always forget where we put it, ha ha.

Don’t tell Uncle Dickie, I used to say or Dr Mac The Marmaliser will be cross and lock you in the cold shower with the scary lady.

He’d runaway as fast as his little legs would carry him as soon as I mentioned Dr. Mac.

They all still do!

Yes, I am pleased to say there is still a rich vein of yellow custard running through the jam butty mine.

Made me rich, Ha ha, by Jove!

On the subject of custard, again let me put the record straight about a hurtful rumour.

Doc the Marmaliser has never had any shenanigans with Blondes, all a misunderstanding, it wasn’t Blonde ladies, it was Yellow Birds.

The stuff running through the spines of the whole administration.

Anyway ladies and gentlemen, I can tell you now, the Tattynefarious Two, Hamish and Mint, will never fall on their tickling sticks.

Oh no!

They want to meet Ringo first and get their Thomas the Tank Engine DVDs autographed.

Don’t know if you’re aware, but Ringo’s appearance is another one of Harbottles mix ups, he was actually trying to get Bingo from the Banana Splits…Tra la lar, tra la la la lar…….Ha ha you’re all singing it now.

But ladies and gentlemen, their greatest fear is if Hottlebottle starts to sing.

And I don’t mean Prokofiev’s For the Love of Three Orange-shades.

But I’m sure if he started, it would be the Last Tango for quite a few.

For now, I have heard him offering only one simple ballad:

“Now aahs flyin off teh Sunny Speeeain,

eh Viva Espagnia.

Another quarter million dahn the drain

eh Viva Espagnia.

Ahrs not fookin comin back again

teh this shaite compania

Thah’d be dangerous eff tha ‘ad a brain,

Now pay oop, pour favour”

Good for you Harbottle!

You have helped make sure that the Cultural Legacy for 2008 is firmly the one left by Sir Diddy and the Knights of Cashalot.

And once again the Chuckle Brothers will be placed in the stocks on the village green and maybe this time be banished from the Municipality of Mirth.

What a lovely Christmas present this is for me.

Two complete puddings in a dish best served cold!

By the way boys,if you are thinking of doing a Thelma and Louise, don't think you can do your getaway in another Forde Musthang, that's why you've ended up in a wheelie bin.

Hate to see your skidmarks right now.

See you all on St Georges plateau in January, I’ll be disguised as one of the St Johns Ambulance, going through the wallets of the unconscious abseiling volunteers…just trying to identify them!

Tatty Bye Everybody Tatty bye

Happy 2009