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!

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....

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

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

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!