I Guess Thats Why They Call It The Blues

Since I took early redundancy( semi retirement) some eleven years ago, I have wound up my friends with the words....'The only time I get up to alarm clock now,is Everton away games in London'.....So last Saturday morning the alarm was well and truly set for the ungodly hour of 5.15 am.The reason was the FA Cup 4th Round Replay at Stamford Bridge,Chelsea.The first thing I thought as I left home in the rain shortly after was..'I must be efffing mad'...The train down was rammed.Not even standing room for a 4 hour journey.Luckily,I got a seat.No refreshments either.The trolley could not get through.If a visit to the loo was required,the only way to the loo, was to get off at the next station and run down the platform to the loo carraige.Except when you got there you realised the queue was back to where you were sitting in the first place! Cue empty beer cans.Hopefully out of view of the ubiquitous CCTV cameras and children.And that was just the women amongst us!! Still the journey passed rather uneventfully, considering how much beer an brandy had been consumed.After a few beers outside Euston in the Royal George it was now getting late.No time to buy an Underground ticket.So it was time for a bit of 'ducking and diving'.This comes natural.
With a minute to go of extra-time Everton were losing 1-0.Then a free kick in a dangerous position.Bainsy sends it into the top corner and its pandemonium.If I ever wondered for a minute why I bother,the question was answered in full right there and then.At moments like this a kind of strange,surreal,semi reality becomes apparent....in slow motion...Any worries are immediately purged from within and replaced by temporary euphoria.As it was at the end of penalties when we scored the winner.Now,way back in 1970 I watched Everton win the first ever penalty shoot out in the European Cup.I had only seen them win one more since.A curse if there ever was one.Back in 1970 I went to bed as an 11 year old boy and kicked the quilt cover til I fell asleep.
So it was off to the George for a few more beers, a few cans for the train (that rocked all the way back) and into the City for a few more beers; before it was off to bed.After another session of....'rolling like thunder under the covers', I slept like an 11 year old boy without a care in the world.Some things never change.

Mmmmm,Mmmmm,Mmmmm,Mmmmm.

There has been a lot of mud slinging of late between two of Englands footballing stalwarts.Everton,who hold the WORLD record for the most seasons in top flight football,over 100;and Arsenal,who hold the record for the longest unbroken spell in the English top division.The reason is, that one of the Arsenal players,Cesc Fabregas has been reportedly accusing the mighty Everton,a bastion of English football, of bribing match officials in return for ' favours'.Cesc's manager, Arsene 'the Arse of Arsenal' Wenger has also accused the Everton manager,David Moyes, of lying In my eyes that make them Two Dogs arses!! Moyes has come out fighting and today went public.He has confirmed what the press had previously reported, namely that Cesc had in fact accused Everton FC of bribing officials.His manger 'Arse of the Arse' has also accused Moyes of pretending he heard the accusation!! Anal Arse is a man who conveniently 'never sees' any transgression by his players.Clearly a man of little integrity.Arse is also claiming a media witch-hunt against his star player.This is the same player who allegedly told a lower league player to 'fcuk off' when asked to swap shirts after a recent FA Cup tie.He also allegedly spat at an opposing manager.He also allegedly tried to get his friend and ex collegue Mikel Arteta sent off by feigning injury.He also tried to end the same players career last week by stamping on his achilles tendon,allegedly.Methinks the allegations are starting to stack up.The thing is Cesc like mud,the other thing that sticks is the fruits of your disgusting,dirty,no good Spanish lungs!! Superstar? My Arse!! Strange then, that when you look at the stats.This season, Arsenal have been 'awarded' 14 penalties, the corrupt, no good, incorrigibles of Goodison Park have been awarded...well....none!!Mmmmmmmmmmmm!

The Laughing Gnome

One of the above is a comedian.The other is Ricky Gervais.Little Richard has ruffled a few feathers in Hollywood of late I hear.News must be slow because he is still getting airtime for it.Apparently he had the audacity to put down a few minor celebrities whilst in their company.From what I can gather, Ricky has only ever done two things.Firstly, write a series that reminds people, who really don't want reminding, just how shit and soul destroying office life really is.Particularly, when your boss is the biggest gobshite you have ever come across.Believe me I've met a few.And the thing is; the current one is always worse than the gobshite before.My last one was worse than the previous three put together! Why,once you've left 'the office' would you get pleasure out of watching yourself being drained of your soul all over again? Secondly, he wrote something that put extra-ordinary actors like Robert De Niro and Patrick Stewart(the latter just happens to be a friend of a friend) in ordinary situations.And just because of who they were,this made it profound and a work of genius.Then again so was 'The Emperors New Clothes' when I 'read' it as a 9 year old.If Ricky wants to be a comedian he could do a lot worse than take a few lessons off 'The Dame'.Watch any 'Audience with Dame Edna' show or in fact any of her shows to see the art of the gentle put down at its finest.'She's' that good that the victim is never 'not amused'.My favourite clip,in fact one of my fave all time clips is when she 'interviewed' the great Douglas Fairbanks Jnr.Now there's a real celebrity.Most would have expected some comment about the alleged madness of his wife Joan Crawford.Not The Dame.She simply asked with all due sincerety whether....'Joan had pet name for her front botty?'.All Douglas Fairbanks could do was smile while squirming profusely.That the way to do it Ricky....with a touch of class.

The Last Waltz

What you may wonder have the two handsome chaps above got in common.Well not much as you would imagine.However,the death of Pete Postlethwaite brought to mind one of my favourite show-biz anecdotes.It happened in an airport executive lounge while the celebs where being kept waiting for a Concorde flight.Both,were amongst the irate customers.Presently,a rather apologetic young hostess advised that the celebs would be called by name when their seat was available.Pete decided that this was the time for a bit of fun,realising the young girl didn't really have a clue who anybody was.When Engleberts name was called Pete immediately stood up,claiming he was Englebert.Englebert was not happy and protested, at which point Pete friends joined in 'Spartacus' style.Sadly, Pete has sadly had his last waltz.No doubt everybody will have their favourite character of his.Mine was always his portrayal of 'Obidiah' in 'Sharpe'.

The Snowman

Somethings never change.Regardless of the weather and how sub-zero it gets, the dog still has to be taken for a walk.So whilst walking the dog I took in the air.Very crisp and even,while the snow I walked upon was very deep and dry.In fact it was perfect for making snowmen.Except that as far as the eye could see;there was not a snowman in sight.Yet,the local park is surrounded by young kids who have been off school for a week.What's the problem.Is it too much like hard work to build a snowman? Or is it that a snowman cannot, as yet be downloaded? Kids today want everything NOW.And if it takes longer than NOW they don't appear to be interested.When I was a kid my idea of technology would have been a big stick, long enough to reach from the couch, to the push buttons on the Rediffusion TV.As much as I love the instant gratification the internet can deliver,I am so glad I got to grow up in Christmas past.Sadly,kids today will never know the difference between snow-men and snow-women.First one to answer correctly wins a carrot.Texts charged at two bob each!

The King and I

On 5th July 1981 Lord Roby and friends happened upon a riot in Toxteth,Liverpool.We knew it was a riot because there were cars reversing into off- licences and tobacconists and filling up with booze and fags without so much as a 'by your leave'.Also, there was a general air of chaos and mayhem that one does not come across in normal everyday life.There was nothing else to do but get out the car and join in! Cue police stand-offs, missile launching,tractor driving rioters attacking police lines with the sharp end of the bucket.Oh and bank burning.The sight of a Nat West bank going up in flames along with all the cash will live long in the memory.I turned up in work the next day with black smoke rings under my eyes and smelling like a well charred jacket spud on Bonfire night.

Last night Prince Charles and friends happened upon a riot.He knew it was a riot because people were trying to attack him and shouting 'off with their heads' in a rather menacing fashion.

What did our 'future' King do? He kept waving that pathetic tiresome royal wave.For all his intellect and upbringing he had obviously not been concentrating during his 'What to do if you happen upon a riot' training in downtown Balmoral.It would have been nice see him get out and start shouting 'All Coppers Are Bastards' but I suppose that's just wishful thinking; and it did occur to me that Prince William may have told him to turn right at Piccadilly instead of left.What a wag!

The thing is, I never thought for one minute I would ever have anything in common with our future King.

One thing however is certain,the picture above will spawn a thousand captions.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go

As I was walking down the Frog and Toad the other day I nearly stood on a Richard the Third.Being a responsible chappie I wondered what to do about the Richard the Third to prevent anybody else making a mess of themselves.I decided to try and pick up the Richard the Third.This proved more difficult than I imagined because it wouldn't keep still. When I finally managed to pick it up;with two hands,as it was rather large;I noticed a ring on it's left leg.It was a rather fine specimen of the genus Racing Pigeon( Fugitus Mickus).As it was totally exhausted I decided to take it home and try to contact the Nearly Dead Pigeon's Society.This was no trouble to someone like myself, who as a ragamuffin child spent plenty of time in pigeon lofts.Usually other peoples in the dead of night!! I rang the hotline and gave in the number on the ring,only to be told that the owner was no longer racing pigeons so the computer said I couldn't have his contact details.I was now the unwitting owner of orphan GB 98 J 29924.Apparently the 98 is the date of birth,which at 12 years old makes it rather an old bird,which presumably makes it a successful bird,since pigeons fanciers take no prisoners when it comes to tardy Micks.However,the bird, now known affectionately as Long John Silver Blue because it's always standing on one leg,steadfastly refuses to leave the comfort of my shed.I leave the door open but no luck.I even left it's food bowl by the open door.When I came back there was no sign of LJSB.But only because it had bedded down in some straw on the floor! Maybe it has only flown when racing, but then I'm not about to take it to Whitchurch to find out it's back in the shed before I'm back over Runcorn Bridge.It seems perfectly happy with it's lot,and I've got no problem buying a bag of cracked corn every now and then.So I guess it's here to stay until such times as it decides to go.