taster

As a taster for a huge blog entry to come in the following week, here's a few shots of me and Jayne's current trip to Dublin. I'm sitting here in our digs in Glasnevin after another very enjoyable and tiring day writing this.

I'm nursing a cold, which is completely and utterly typical of coming to Ireland. Most holidays I've had coming here have coincided with the mange!

So, you never know - you might enjoy reading about our adventures? Stay tuned!!!!!

moores

Former Liverpool chairman, David Moores, has finally come out from the woodwork in his Formby mansion and told his side of the story as regards selling my club to the Americans. The "Liverpool Echo" piece is rather good.

Well, not good reading because all Moores seems to want to do is justify himself and the terrible mistake he made three years ago. It's all very well, David, when you've been sent to Coventry by the current owners, to moan like mad about a situation you could've avoided if you and your advisers had any sort of gumption or integrity about them.

It's also wonderful that your fine words, however late they are, add fuel to the fire of the "Sons Of Shankly" organisation - a band of supporters who, through their over-riding hatred of the Yanks, helped keep Rafa Benitez in the job for a full season longer than he should've. Knobheads.

I'd rather see my team lose every game ever from now on, than have it in control of our wretched, uncaring owners. In the near future, there is going to be a wake-up call in English football because a very, very, very big team is going to fail financially in an unprecedentedly massive way. It will be one of two clubs - the biggest clubs to be precise - Liverpool or Manchester United. It's inevitable. Football cannot carry on as it is. The money has blown everything out of proportion.

pension

Work's been up and running again for a few months now, and the initial signs are that we're going in the right direction. So there's been very-gentle discussion about future plans, and one of the first things we've had a chat about is a company pension for everyone.

Now all my work colleagues have a private pension of some kind, and they're carrying on paying in as much before. Except me, obviously, who hasn't a private pension of any kind.

Anyway, a bloke came into work the other week telling us all about pension stuff. And I know I can be fairly thick, but as soon as your man started talking I was lost. I'm one of these people who however hard I try to concentrate on what's being said, the less I take in or understand.

But I think part of me was resistant to it anyway? The starting payment is £20 a month (which the company match), but that's a week's juice for Anya3. And I don't know what's gonna happen in 25 days time, let alone 25 years!

Call it immaturity on my part, but fiscal planning is something I strive to do from week to week (quite successfully at this moment) and that's my priority. The future is something else altogether.

I remember two blokes coming round to ours not long after me Dad passed on, going over his meager pension with Mum. And the cheeky buggers, amid our grief, sold our kid an insurance policy. Mick did very well out of it as it happens, I think he got a decent cash payout after so many years. But that wasn't the point - there's a time and place for everything and everyone. Under gritted teeth, I politely declined, but I could've swung for the bastards.

I have an immense distrust of people in suits trying to take money off me - I'm sorry.

I'm being urged to sign up to this, and I appreciate the logic behind it. But I have serious reservations - that's all. I think if I had the presence of mind to actually speak against it, I wouldn't do it. But I'm too much like a rabbit in the headlights to have the balls not to.

camelot

I went with Jayne, Aaron, Bethany and their church group to the theme-park Camelot today.

It was still very warm, and to be honest, I could've happily just sat in the shade in the garden today. But we'd paid our fares - both for entrance and the coach. And it was worthwhile because we had a good, if draining, day.

Aaron attempts to pull King Arthur's sword out of the stone. Sadly, neither he or me could wrench the bugger free - probably fixed in with that heavy-duty chemical anchor adhesive we sell in work!

The bad knight at the joust.

Another knight at the joust.....

The other knights at the joust. They jousted, and pretended to beat the shit out of each other in a choreographed sequence straight out of "Carry On Don't Lose Your Head".

Ah, now here's me waiting in the queue to ride on the Excalibur 2. Nervous? Never......

There's me holding on for dear life. I kept my eyes closed most of the time. Up, down, left, right, etc.... Still, it gave me a good workout for next week's ferry to Ireland!

Me and Bethany wait for the Dragon ride. She wasn't that scared really.

Bethany in a go-kart. Her driving skills belay her tender years.

Me in a go-kart being rude, just about to be lapped by a small child.

Me and Jayne at the end of the day, both of us knackered. I like this pic though.

Even with the gorgeous weather, Camelot was fairly quiet. It's not long reopened after an extended closure and re-think on how to make the place attractive. We had to queue for most of the rides we went on, but not for very long. Best fun we had was probably the log-flume, that we sadly didn't get any photos of, and neither me nor Jayne were paying £5 for the official ride shot.

We took a load of butties and drinks, which saved us a fortune. And all in all, we had a good day. But it's not the sort of place I think I'd return to again and again because I think I'd personally get bored. The challenge to the management of Camelot is to keep the paying public on their toes, and I wonder if they ever can?

success

I had a busy day with Jayne yesterday. A few weeks ago, she bought a flatpacked barbeque from B&Q, and yours sincerely spent a couple of hours putting the thing together with only a screwdriver. Success! I built it, but it's been hanging around in Jayne's front room because she didn't have a gas bottle to light it, which we remedied by a return trip to B&Q and paying £47 for a small butane gas bottle. Whether we were ripped off, I'll never know.

I've also bought a new mattress for my bed. The current one is wrecked. I got the new one from a second-hand place in Netherton, but the mattress itself is an unused reject from the manufacturers. For £40 I can't complain. I'll pick it up during the week if I can pinch the loogie for a bit, hopefully.

We came back to Jayne's, armed also with some incorrect coke bricks that would do the job for this attempt, to do a lunchtime test. I had a couple of veggie burgers, and Jayne had some 1/4 lb yak burgers.

They smelt and tasted very, very nice after cooking. Second success!

And just to prove they were okay, here's pic a me eating my veggie burger done on Jayne's barbeque.

And I'm still here now, a day later, writing this! Third success!

angel

So the truth's finally out about "Ashes To Ashes"? Seems everybody's dead, they're in some sort of police purgatory where, for all his faults, Gene Hunt is a Guardian Angel and Jim Keats is the Devil. Depending on who you stick with means you either go into the "Railway Arms" (Heaven), or down the elevator (Hell).

This final episode tied up all the loose ends. I needed to watch the show twice to figure out what the mosh was going on, because I'm fairly thick. But it was a really good end to the series, and I'm sad to see it go.......

balmy

Finally it seems summer has arrived. For how long? Nobody's sure, but I suppose I should enjoy it while it lasts.

Above pic is of the duck pond on Victoria Road in Crosby. I was out on a bike ride around Little Crosby tonight - sweated buckets - but it seemed to give me some rejuvenation.

If the truth be told, I'm not feeling very bloggy at the moment. You may have noticed by the lack of posts. I even missed commenting on Pete Townshend's birthday. The real world is calling....worse luck lol!

I like watching the world go by from the relative safety of my front door. Everything happens by me in the summer. Drug deals, excessively illegal parking. Beach-bound groups of teenage boys proudly hoisting crates of Carlsberg Special Brew over their shoulders - as if they want people to know that they have ale, and they're going to drink it! How very responsible of these children? Fire engines, fire alarms, car alarms, dogs, shopping baskets, heaving boom boxes and litter - all vying for attention in the balmy night air.

Night, night....for now!

supergrass

This isn't breaking news, but it's still very sad that Supergrass are to split up after 17 years together, finishing with some final shows in June.

I've always liked Supergrass - their first big hit, "Alright" is a wonderful slice of bubblegum. But they stuck it out far longer and successfully than a lot of the more acclaimed so-called Britpop artists. They weren't your regular sub-Beatles plagiarists either. Incorporating electronics, Bowie-glam and Who-like power chords, they were the perfect pop band in many ways.

Highlights? The power-pop perfection of "Grace" and the trance-like riff-heavy coda of "Faraway".

Wonderful tunes and memories. Their like we don't see too often. Take care.......

decorating

I've been decorating my bedroom the past couple of days. What do you think?

I haven't been sure what's gonna happen with me and the flat in recent weeks, what with the noise and everything. But there's been a period of calm from upstairs for the last month or so.....that abruptly ended the other Sunday by someone above knocking plaster off the walls at five in the morning!!!!!

I shouted up at them to shut up, no answer, so I went round and banged on the door, no answer either. I've complained to the landlord, but he really doesn't give a toss. As long as he's getting his rent, why should it bother him in his lovely bungalow in Thornton - two miles away. I doubt he heard the noise there!

One nugget of information he did give me was one of the girls living up there has gone back to their parents - this is probably noisy, drugged-up Rachel - which would explain the relative silence of the present. There's been no noise at all since Sunday morning's exploits. I'd like to believe they've knocked shite out of the flat and just left?

Peace at last? We wait and see..........

clegg

This is Nick Clegg. He used to be leader of a harmless political institution called the Liberal Democrats. Sadly, Nick's lust for power, allied with a massive ego, has joined him and his party up in Government with a dangerously right-wing Conservative administration. Nick's now the Deputy Prime Minister. Well, tickle my tits with sugar........

For the last couple of hours I've been trying to convince myself that this coalition between the Tories and Lib-Dems will curb many of the former's political ambitions. But I take no heart from this morsel of restraint. Chances are that the Tories will, before this Parliament's out, stitch Clegg and friends up good and proper. And you know what? They deserve it.

Nick Clegg has done a deal with the Devil. He's sold out the working classes' aspirations for a fairer slice of the cake by aligning his party with the Conservatives tonight. He's condemned the poor and needy to at least five years of uncertainty and financial struggle. He's pissed all over the good and the decent sections of his party's membership and voters who would never, ever in a million years go into Government with their political and ideological opposites.

It's a bad, bad day for Britain.

lusitania

In the chaos of the election in the U.K, life goes on. And today, almost unnoticed, is the 95th anniversary of the sinking of the Cunard liner, "Lusitania".

"Lusitania" was travelling from New York to Liverpool, when she was sunk by a torpedo fired by German submarine U-20, off the Old Head Of Kinsale, Co.Cork, Ireland. The ship sunk in less than 20 minutes killing 1,198 (including 128 Americans). The sinking, even in the context of the First World War, was universally condemned, and played a large part in drawing the United States into the conflict against Germany.

The whole tragedy has been shrouded in mystery for the last 95 years. Many claim that "Lusitania" was carrying munitions for the war effort - items not supposed to be carried by supposed "civilian" liners. The U.K Government has sealed away documents relating to the sinking that are never likely to be made public, even after nearly a century.

Why? What is there to be kept secret about "Lusitania"?

But today is a time to remember the innocent lives lost. RIP x

bright

One of the few bright spots of last night's General Election was Bill Esterson, the lad "flown in" from Kent to stand as Labour candidate for Sefton Central, keeping the seat when all the polls pointed to a Conservative victory. I'm made up. My vote counted.

Debi Jones must be pig-sick. The big-headed bitch, so over-confident, ditched her safe council seat in a second attempt to take Crosby. She's failed. Again.

The electorate have made it clear that even if they're fed up of Gordon Brown, they're not particularly willing to get into bed with Cameron.

The current legislation that gives the incumbent party, in the event of a hung parliament, the first chance to form a Government is a little stupid. I've no time for Cameron and his ilk at all, the as they are dangerous, but they are the majority party and should be offered the initial opportunity to make a governing party. I feel Clegg would be more than naive to offer Cameron support - the Lib-Dems have more in common with Labour. But it's such a mess of things at the moment that no one knows what's gonna happen - rightly or wrongly.

I like Gordon Brown, I have a lot of time for him. But the time has come for him to step aside. Probably for David Milliband with Lib-Dem and minority party support. For all our sakes.

woman

Possibly the most ill-advised name for a Rock band. No thanx, luv....if, indeed, you are actually a woman??????

Labour

I love this story......

When he was a kid, me Dad was subject to an aptitude test in school. The results of which determined how a person came across politically.

So he, and his classmates, did the test and were marked. The teacher went around the class.

"Now Jones," the teacher said to one guy, "by your answers, we can say that you're probably a Liberal."

The teacher went on, "And Smith. If your test was right, you're likely a Conservative."

And on and on these proclamations to the class went. By the end of the lesson, everyone had their answers, except me Dad. The teacher asked him to stay behind after the rest had left.

"I didn't want to say in class," the teacher confided, "but by your test paper, it works out you're bordering on revolutionary Communist......"

I don't know how much of this story is true, but I don't think Dad was a Commie - not in the Marxist sense anyway. But he was definitely a Socialist. Time and time again, I saw him give up opportunity (more so in work) so other lads could get a fair slice of the cake. Often, they took the piss. But he didn't care. He knew it was right that everyone shared equally the benefits that were available.

Go on a generation.

And I'm much the same. I've picked up most of my political schooling from Dad, but my own experiences at the hands of governments tempers my opinion. Conservatism is the spawn of the devil. The rich get richer, at the expense of the poor. That's the way it's always been, that's the way it'll stay. Both rich and poor, sadly, need each other in Conservative theory. The rich need the poor to work for them, usually for crap wages in comparison to the huge profits the rich will make. The poor need the jobs the rich are offering to buy the essentials of life.

The mad thing is a poor person will often have to spend all their wages on the essentials of life, which conveniently belong to the rich. So the rich get richer, and the poor are usually as poor as they started off with before they got paid. By the rich.

The rich sit around on their fat arses doing nothing whilst the poor make them huge profits.

Now if you want this state of affairs to proliferate, starting this coming Friday, vote Tory. And if you want the hunting ban repealed so foxes and the like can be ripped apart for "sport", vote Tory too. You selfish bastard.....

If you want a society where everyone will eventually share in the wealth, vote Labour. And the wild animals in this country will stay safe as a result.

It's not often a General Election has the potential to change so many peoples' lives, but this is one occasion. Vote for the vulnerable, not for yourself. If you're upwardly-mobile, you're doing alright. Vote for those sections of our society that aren't, whose voices are never heard.

Vote Labour.

pass

I don't know why Steven Gerrard is looking so dejected after the best slide-rule back pass in decades, sent Didier Drogba clear for Chelsea's first goal in their 2-0 win at our place today?

Steven has restored my faith in his ability to fight for the cause. A Liverpool win today would've given Alex Ferguson a real, fighting chance of overtaking us in League title wins. Instead, we've likely driven the Scottish bastard to drink. To fume for another season in his insatisable need to knock "Liverpool off their f**king perch!"

I think we're merely postponing the inevitable, but it's not that often we have a say nowadays in the Title race.

To suggest we merely fell over and allowed Chelsea to win would be foolish. They were simply the better team, and yet again, the lack of a truly outstanding out-and-out striker has cost us very dear.

At least El Nino got on the pitch today. To partake in a (IRONY ALERT!) Lap Of Honour with the rest of potentially-transfer-listed-half-wits who hopefully have made their last appearance in a Red shirt at Anfield.

neuroses

When I started the blog again, one of the things I really didn't want to do was use it as a forum to moan about my real/imagined neuroses.

But, when I look back over the years, I come to the conclusion (because I'm my own worst critic) that I consider myself to be a non-entity of a person. And you know why?

BECAUSE NO BUGGER EVER LISTENS TO ME!!!!!!!!!!

Throughout my lifetime, I have tried to dispense with ideas and advice gained from various situations and experiences I've been through. I've persisted, god knows why, because I might as well have conversations with walls. But I've got to a point where one of the best pieces of advice I was given becomes worryingly prophetic......

"If you haven't got anything good to say, don't say anything at all"

A beaut of me Dad's. He must have seen me coming!

So apart from the blog, it's very tempting in the real world to just shut up completely, because I obviously know nothing about nothing.

If you think this is a personal swipe at someone, please believe me that it's not. It's 39 years of trying to get on, and having it thrown back in my face.

Rant over. I'll be better now. Here's a picture of some lovely baby pigeons.......