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

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!!!!

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.....

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....

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!

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...)

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

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!