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

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

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

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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 !

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

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

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

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!

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

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