IF YOUR NUCLEAR FUSION REACTOR'S KNACKERED I CAN HELP, BUT IF YOUR TOILETS BUNGED UP YOUR KNACKERED ,I'M SORRY !

Most people know somebody who can 'do jobs'. Y'know plumbing or a bit of 'Elekky' jobs around the house, and so the list goes on. I know a few lads like this , but i've gone further. I've moved foreward into the 21st century social circle. A world where people don't rely on plumbers and basic 'elekky' skills but are much more advanced. I have a cicle of friends and aquaintances who are nothing less than NUCLEAR INSPECTORS. So, if you have any troubles with your cold fusion reactor in the years to come, give me a shout .'I know a fellah, and a woman, who can sort you out'. If your toilets bunged up ,or the telly's not getting channel5, or something, i wont be much help to you. But if your nuclear power station is giving you problems, give us a shout.

I'D PREFER TO BE HIT WITH INSPIRATION, BUT A MILD POKE OR A GENTLE NUDGE OF INSPIRATION'D DO,AT THE MOMENT !!

Mon apologies all my followers n' fans out there in madbadninkyland for the certain lack of communications over the last week or couple or three, even , that all its been ,my you are an impatient lot! I sat at the computer ready for the torrent of creative jibberish to come flooding out....And waited.....And carried on waiting......But the expected torrent, the creative tsunami caused by the slipping and grinding of the brains stressed creative fault lines didn't happen. Does this mean that the disturbed brain that i rely on has settled down to a calm settled state. Thats wonderful if i'm a zen monk gazing at a cave wall for 30 years, but a bit of a bugger if your a blogging cartoonist.

Right so here we go , back to forcing jibberish and rubbish from the nooks and cranny's of my infertile imagination. I'l see about going to see a therapist. Not to cure myself of psychological disorders. But to see about 'getting' a few psychological disorders. This will cause the pressures and strains to build up on my brains creative fault lines and cause creative brain quakes; Tsunamis of the imagination, and the usual rubbish......

DAVID CARRADINE HUNG BY THE NECK N' NUTS, BUT WHERE WAS HIS FLUTE ?

Aaaaah!.....What a world we live in. When i was 'nobbut a lad', in the 70's ,i loved the stories of a scruffy bare footed half chinese fellah walking around the wild west booting the hell out of the cowboys who always seemed to pick on him for walking into the saloon in mainstreet 'Deadmans Gulch' and asking in a barely audible whisper for" a glass of water, please. " This was , of course David Carradine, as rogue Shaolin monk Kwai Chang Caine, in the wonderful 'Kung Fu'. Made me the man i am that telly series did. I can often be seen walking around Warrington in bare feet, but broken bottles and police warnings have curtailed my monkish wanderings of late, the world we live in i'm afraid. But while i was away on an S.A.S. -Like endurance test, that was a family holiday in a caravan in Wales. I was informed by my old hairy mate Guy Carter and proud owner of a boxed dvd collection of the Kung Fu series(as am i.), of the death of David Carradine. He was found hanging in a Bangcok hotel cupboard by his neck n' nuts. Apparently as pop stars and movie stars aren't satisfied with a 'swift one off the wrist'these days. The beautiful people, they shove apples in their gob;A noose around their neck, and ,apparently their cobblers, then step off the stool? This gives them 'extreme satisfaction', shall we say. But it does seem to go wrong for a lot of the time ,so if they do die,it's with a big smile on their face. But the smile on their face is to make room for the massively bloated purple tongue sticking out of their mouth.

I can only imagine Kwai Chang Caine would never have done such a thing, but you never know. Carradine was deeply 'into' Kung Fu' ,Tai-chi, Chi-gong and various associated philosophies like his alter-ego Caine. And, apparently trained and studied with the Shaolin monks. So, what are they teaching nowadays at the Shaolin temple and if Caine had of committed an act of Auto-Erotic sex, where would he have stuck his flute?

I'M NOT SURE IF I SHOULD THUMP OR KISS MY DAUGHTER!

(To read just click on the text....Yes i know you know, but there are people who don't, like me!) I'm still not sure, but i must admit it had me laughing, so i went for a kiss, but gave her a boot as she left the room, i don't want her to think i'm going soft. All her own work....Elara Leatherbarrow, your a smartarse!!!....I think i'll give her another kick.

STAINS;WHY DO WOMEN WANT TO ERADICATE THEM AND MEN WISH TO CULTIVATE THEM......

(Control yourself, Cathy!) One of my inciteful ,finger on the pulse blurbings, rantings and general blatherings, recently finished with my mentioning that i had to go and put my rubber gloves, flowery pinny and various househusbanding acrutiaments(jeez! i'll have to bring the dictionary in here, one day!)....And do my cleaning before the return of the Lovely Lynne from her day at doing what banking people do to help the down-trodden masses. This image of me in a flowery pinny and a pair of marigolds excited a lovely young lady,CATHY SIMPSON, of whom i have mentioned. and who's details are on my link thingey on this here very blog wot you are trolling through (but off to the right hand side of the page.). Over the last week i have filled her waking hours and maybe even her sleeping hours(it could happen) with these images and thoughts. Then a major step in our pinny based communications took place when my collection of pinny stains entered the dialogue. This is where the male ,female differences came to the fore. She made typical girly suggestions about getting the pinny washed. To which, aghast and appalled i replied that stains aren't just dirty marks....Stains are moments in time, every stain has a history. Like any geologist will tell you rock strata are from definite time periods in the history of our planet and the knowledge of the world is within these strata. Likewise the layers of my various stains tell of my time as a cartooning blog-blathering houseslave. The organic mix on the pinny's material has given the spark of life to a whole new ecosystem, judging by the scratching i do when i'm wearing it. I am the creator, am i a god?.... Or is the universe just a stain on a flowery pinny, part of another universe ,a stain on another flowery pinny? Going on and on forever, an infinity of flowery pinny's?????....(There!Who said i can't think deep thoughts!)

Cathy suggested that the Proffessional Cartoonist Organisation would cough up for a new pinny and the existing one could be displayed for the benefit of the world. I'm not sure my ethics, morals and beliefs would allow me to do this, but if there's money involved???



The only other problem is that the pinny is in a specially constructed biologically sterile bunker 500 ft below ground. Anybody who's ever seen the ANDROMEDA STRAIN will understand. Then Cathy started on about me not wearing trousers, typical woman! Here i am creating life and all she wants to talk about is sex!

EUROVISION 2009..THE U.K. WERE O.K, BUT WERE K.O'D BY A SMACK IN THE MOUTH FROM THE VIOLINIST !

Last Saturday night it was that time of the year ,again. That night of the year when i always seem to have nothing else to do and nowhere to go and do it and i have no escape or excuse to avoid the EUROVISION SONG CONTEST.....The Lovely Lynne won't allow me to put a single SUPERCAR dvd on, so i have to watch it with her. As it went on i read a book on Jack the Ripper, which has been solved by an ex-detective, apparently 'Jack' was a German sailor caught and executed for murder in the U.S. But the horrors inflicted by Jack paled when compared to some of the acts on the Eurovision, i thought. But, i always think that. Fair enough there was some good warbling and some tasty lasses doing the warbling. But whenever the fellahs came on, i felt like smacking them, esspecially that young Norwegian that won. I thought the song that was written by Ronan Keating was great, the fellah should work as a Ronan Keating impersonator. He's lucky, unlike the Elvis impersonators, they don't have the real man to coach them, whereas he's got ol' Ronan to hone the Ronan clone to perfection.

Then we had the UNITED KINGDOM(nil pwoint).....Whereas every other country fielded their biggest stars, we Brits in the true spirit of Eurovision got our amateur from a reality game show hosted by a certain A.Lloyd Webber(songs, stageshows for all the family, for any occassion). On she comes our prospective little starlet warbling on about "This is her night". Drifting across to one of the violinist hacking away at his violin with the horse hair bow who promptly belts her in the microphone, which hits her in the mouth. It was at this point i fell off the chair laughing, so i think i missed her getting a nudge from the second violinist she wandered/stumbled across to. The last violinist must've seen what had transpired and turned his waving fist,elbow and bow away from our battered and beaten but still warbling heroine bouncing pin-ball-like around the stage. I thought she sang with a bit of a lisp, but it was probably where a chipped tooth pierced her lip. I tell you its dangerous work this singing in Eurovision song contests. I included this second violin cartoon not only to show how wonderful i am, but to show that real life isn't that far from the 'silly' world of cartoons... I don't know which is sillier the cartoons or Eurovision.

I'll also bet that the politicians, gawd bless 'em breathed a sigh of relief when 'our girl ' didn't win. If she had, we would've had to stump up for the Eurovision song contest, next year. We can't afford Eurovision song contests and politicians expences, as well.

BLOODY HELL, BLOOMING EXSPENSES,FLIPPING HOUSES AND F***ING POLITICIANS !!!!

Just a little one today!!!!.....As i was eating my perfectly boiled egg(4 minutes in boiling water)... And my toasted crusty bread, i was choking laughing at the latest revelations in the MPs' exspences debacle. After a week or two of enjoying themselves at Labours 'Browns boobs' variety of disasters, fiddles n' fiascoes. It was now the turn of Camerons 'crowers' to feel the might of the whistleblower and the Daily Telegraph(good name for a pub, that!)... So everything from dog-food to shandaliers to moats, and helicopter pads were thrown in the mix.. I was choking on my breakfast, literally 'pissing myself laughing..Oh god this is wonderful stuff! The politicians are all showing their true colours and they're not just blue n' red and whatever colour the LibDems are. These pathetic swindling bastards who are sorry because they've been caught and exposed are out on their doorsteps waving cheques that they are going to pay back what they've claimed with...Now this is what politics and politicians are all about, great stuff!

MP'S ARE DIRTY,BUT THE PRIME MINISTER ISN'T, HIM N' HIS BROTHER'VE GOT A CLEANER. I KNOW 'COS I'M PAYING FOR HER!

Today another batch of fiddling by MP's on their expenses hits the news headlines. Everybody is running two cars, two houses; getting houses built; porno dvd collections for their husband ;private planes ,etc,etc,.But now the big boys are involved Jack Straw for claimed his full payment of council tax, even though for some reason he's only paying half. Now old Gordo' Brown our beloved prime minister's joining in the fun. Something about paying for a cleaner for him and his brother. Apparently they are all very concerned how it all looks to the voters. There you see, not right or wrong, just votes, just looking good for the voters, nothing else matters. The Mp's are all excused and described as being"POSSIBLY NAIVE ?", which is all very sweet. But for the rest of us, who, of course aren't naive. We'd be criminals "screwing the system".... How things change, only a week or so there's our Gordo' walking the corridors of power chatting to kings n' presidents, now he's embroiled in CLEANERGATE, seeing if he can pay his own Downing street, security cleared Norah Batty from our money , or stick his hands in his pocket and pay her himself with his own money, which funnily enough we gave him.

Right! After putting the world to rights i've got to run the hoover around the house, wash the dishes and tidy up, once i've found my flowery pinny and, of course my rubber gloves (they're for later???)

THIS PANDEMIC COULD BE THE REBIRTH OF MORRIS DANCING WITH CLEAN HANKIES!

"The new lad, he's not from round here is he?" As PAUL SIMON once said, "For Cathy wherever i may find her.", or something like that. This cartoon is dedicated to the loveley CATHY SIMPSON. A freelance illustrator to be found on her well worth a visit website at:

http://www.cathysimpsonillustration.com/ Cathy left a comment on my previous rambling about dancing men in Manchester waving hankies. It struck me that as everybody on the planet is going to die from a mexican swine flu pandemic within days or weeks, or definitly before the next footy season. We need something to take our mind off our ills n' troubles. SONG, DANCE and CLEAN HANKIES , along with grown men drinking a lot and hitting each other with sticks( and thats not just the dancers).The MORRIS DANCER would seem to fit the prescription bill for your flu antibiotics admirably. The pandemic could bring about the rebirth of the MORRIS DANCER. There y'go, as they say when times look bad,' every cloud has .......Another cloud trailing along behind it'

PIGS MIGHT FLY, BUT THE SWINE FLU !

Catch it !

Bin it !

Kill it !

.......There you go .The swine flu pandemic ,sorted. The Flu-fighters spent millions on getting the brains behind ;'Go to work on an egg"; "Snap, crackle n' pop"!; "Put a tiger in your tank"; "The Milky Bar kid", etc, etc....To get to work on fighting the flu-pandemic. Not with drugs ,or medical facilities n' stuff, no something a lot more powerful and effective a 'SNAPPY SLOGAN' ...I sneezed last night, the Lovely Lynne asked me if i had swine flu, but it wasn't flu, but i am a swine. And i didn't sneeze with a spanish/mexican accent ("El -koff-o !....El- sneeze-o !"), so the pandemic hasn't hit our house yet. Mind you, it is funny that for years mexican food has been killing peoples guts, now a few runs from the upper levels of the body, the nose as opposed to the 'other end' and the world flies into a panic.

The Lovely Lynne had to go to a meeting about the pandemic, i suggested, "just for research purposes", you understand, she wears a sombrero, a poncho , swigging a bottle of Tequila . Then in the middle of Manchester sneezes. Just to see the reaction.

U.S. AND US .

Theres always been wars, but not many were everybody hasn't a bloody clue as to"What the hell are we doing here?"....But the invasion of Iraq is one. The U.S ofA. Gawd bless their mom's apple pie dragged us in. Blaming a not very nice, but fairly harmless dictator chappie, a certain mr S. Hussein for the terrible 9/11 hijacked aircraft smashing into the New York Trade Towers. The results of which were as big a shock to the bearded madmen planning the strike in a cave in Afghanistan. When the whole structures came crashing down in a city wide cloud of dust and rubble they were probably as amazed as the rest of the world. So, to battle terrorism theU.S. and us. (we have a special relationship with the yanks.) invade Iraq and police Afghanistan. Which didn't end the war against terrorism, probably 'kickstarted' it. Every muslim and his mate are tramping from Leeds or Bradford to train as terrorists in Pakistan.

But much to 'our special partners' disgust ,"The goddamn Brits're pulling out".... As everybody knows the Americans won all the wars when they "Pulled our butts outta the fire of,again!" It's not over yet, tho' as we'll be entrenched in Afghanistan till 'hell freezes over'. The Russians invaded from virtually 'next door' and 'had their arses kicked'. Are we going to have much more luck fighting this gorrilla war, i doubt it. The U.S. may throw their massive resources into Afghanistan ,if they don't blow us up with 'friendly fire', they may even hit some enemy soldiers hidden in the hills. But it didn't work in Vietnam, Korea, or anywhere else so the 'war on terror will carry on and on and on...'

HOW MANY POLITICAL HITS CAN AN AVERAGE BELOW AVERAGE PRIME MINISTER TAKE ?

I have always hated politics and politicians, but they do hold a fascination for me. The whole lot of 'em, are rotten slimey shitheads out for what they can get , using their beliefs, sincerity(when interviewed) and sense of whats right for the people of this country to excuse the total F***k- up' s they cause these days on an almost daily basis. The cash crisis rolls on; Mp's are going to be paid to attend' the house' ,basically getting paid' to go to work', on top of the exorbitant wages they get for doing bugger all, already. The possibility of a flu-pandemic is growing, but the goverment will spend millions on pamphlets telling us all to put our hands over our mouth when we sneeze. Then they wont have to reopen the wards they've closed, as we'll be ok as we've followed their advice. But just in case they'll give 'the suits' that have infected the NHS, a heap of money to get outside contractors in, to supply fresh flowers and tissues in case some sick people brave the queues and go to hospital. If there is a pandemic, like 'the Survivors' telly series, the politicians will be safe in a bunker with their husbands watching their collections of goverment bought porn DVD's. On and on it goes...We had the earnest young tossers and spin doctors with TonyBlair known as 'Blairs Babes'.....Now we've got a similar bunch of tossers getting caught out,for their sins and screwing their system(with the backing of the British people, so they all say.) and resigning almost weekly. But apologising for 'their mistakes', not offences, mistakes ...Blairs Babes are now Browns Boobs. How many political hits can he take, i'd like to try him out a few political 'smacks in the gob;'headbutts on the nose; A knee in the nuts.....It's a dirty rough game politics.

SERGEANT PEPPERS LONEL HEARTS CLUB BAND, AND BENNIE AND THE JETS ARE ALL SKINT.

We live in seriously terrible frightening times. The world survived bird flu, now we're on the virge of a killer dose of pig flu or swine flu which is going to wipe us all out. So that has helped take our mind of the credit crunches; Financial meltdowns ; Broken banking systems . A financial system hit by a disease caused by a similar cause ,Swines, fat pigs, etc, or bankers and politicians, as they are better known. But it has all finally really taken hold. The normal working people ,thats us ,at the bottom of the pile, we dont warrant much sympathy from those who 'run or ruin the show.' But now the news has reached me that the suffering has spread furthur afeild to those who really need their massive amounts of money. Paul McCartney and Elton John are now not as high up in the worlds richest people top 10, as they once were. This is truly a sad state of affairs when these heroes and icons must be forced to take their destinies in their own hands. Sergeant Pepper's lonely hearts club band and Bennie and the jets have joined together to work their way out of this depression. I believe they're playing round the side of the Tesco garage, by the Spar shop on the main pedestrianised precinct in Widnes. The reformed Genesis are playing after the Bingo on the nights when the line dancing club aren't using the church hall in Haverford West. The Who were playing in the tunnel between platform 1-3 and platform 4-5 at Warrington Bank Quay station. But they got thrown out when Townshend broke a guitar and the neck hit an old lady getting her pensioners railcard checked at the ticket desk.
U2 were asked to leave the Asda carpark in Slough, as they were in the way of the trolley collectors. And i've heard that the Indigo2 concerts for Michael Jacksons' come back, 'i need to pay off my debts tour' have been transfferred to Acton working mens club.

BRUCE LEE...THE LUMPS ON HIS HEAD THEY DIDN'T SHOW IN ENTER THE DRAGON.

The other day the telly's normal terrestrial channel was showing a BRUCE LEE film..FISTS OF FURY. I had to laugh , as for years n' years the Bruce Lee films and Kung Fu films would never be shonon the telly. Even after his death and he was a legend and everybody knew Bruce Lee and wanted to be Bruce Lee, The younger ones had never actually seen him in action as the films were X-rated and the telly would never show any 'kung fu' films.Eventuall y the video tape was invented and later the films were available to get hold of. And even if they did the bits that always got cut were the bits with the 'rice flails', or NUNCHUKAS. You remember them. The clubs with the chain connecting them that Brucie baby was whirling around his body before braining some baddie. Our glorious leaders and betters decided that showing the youthful hooligans of Britain these weapons would cause them all to hit the streets knocking seven bells outta each other with them. I t's simple as that , you walk into your local rice flail shop, buy one and start battering everybody with it, simple.... Oh no it's bloody not. Take it from someone who bought one. Walking home across some playing fields in the dark of the evening. I thought i would have a go with my brand new, chained and engraved hardwood nunchukas. So, i started swinging them around, then CLUNK!!!..I'd whacked myself over the head with the damn things. I fell to my knees clutching my cracked skull, but i managed to stifle my agonised scream to a pained groan, just in case anyone was around to see what a prick i was. Over the years i've been whacked with the damn things a couple of times, still no nearer to mastering the damn things. There, now smartarse politicians, you missed a chance there to get rid of your hooligans by letting them go out, spend their hard stolen money and brain themselves with these deadly weapons. I bet even Bruce Lee had a few good bumps from them, but they cut them from the final cut of the film. Theres only me to expose the truth, again. Where would you be without me, eh?

Actually i was a massive fan of BRUCE LEE..THE LITTLE DRAGON.. When i were' nobbut a lad'.I had posters and a book about him, all treasured possessions and i could tell you all about him, but i'd never seen him even move. As the films were X-Rated, i wasn't able to go. But we were in Ireland to stay with the family in a village called COOTEHILL amongst the bogs of co; Cavan. In a little village about 30 miles away on the pot-holed roads of County Cavan(thats where they invented pot-holes) called OLDCASTLE..They had a little fleapit cinema and they were showing 'ENTER THE DRAGON'. But you only had to be 16 to get in. So, me poor ol' dad was roped in to take me. We got to Oldcastle and in we went. In those days and at that age, the cinema was an event. I can still remember the excitment. The film started with Bruce Lee fighting in shorts and boxing gloves. But it was, "Oh my god, that's Bruce Lee".....I loved it and couldn't come back down to Earth for days. Even now i love that film. It may not be a film classic in the accepted understanding , maybe 2 or 3 stars out of 5 in the telly ratings on the telly page of the paper, but to me . I remember what it meant and still feel a little of that spark from years ago and thats enough for me and my dad quite enjoyed it too, god bless the old sod.

MAN OF STEEL vs TRUMPET OF BRASS

SUPERMAN, THE MAN OF STEEL.....And of course mild mannered Clark Kent. How does it work? I mean , our Superhero can fly through the centres of stars without getting even singed ;He can alter the orbit of a planet with a gentle super nudge; He could melt America with a blast of heat vision and extinguish a supernova with his super breath; Amble through the time and space distorting mindboggling power of your average massive Black hole without even messing his hair. Never mind faster than a speeding bullet or able to leap the tallest building, etc. This guy is seriously SOOPER!.. somebody you'd like on your side.....Or would you?.....I mean you could fire a nuclear missile into his eyeball and he wouldn't blink. He's totally invulnerable and can't be hurt by anything, so he can't be that sensitive to the 'touches' of normal life.. His strength is mindboggling ,so he couldn't weaken down, i wouldn't want to shake hands with him. And how many type writers has Clark Kent smashed up in the Daily Planet? Computer keyboards ! There must be a skipful of the shattered plastic remains from his typing fingers of steel. He could pick his nose of steel ,scoop a lump of snot of steel. Then like anybody, he flicks it with a superfinger of steel....The lump of super snot ricochettes around the world 40 times smashing buildings, causing untold death and destruction. He spits on the pavement , leaving a 30 foot crater where his super'gob' smashed into the ground. Imagine if he passed wind (farted,ok).... Winds would destroy Metropolis and ravage the farmlands of America, possibly affecting climatic conditions around the world. Possibly boosting global warming, i mean when have you ever had a cold fart?.....

Then , what about poor ol' Lois Lane, Supermans girlfriend? It doesn't bear thinking about what a ,superhug, supersnog, and , of course a super leg-over would do to the weak human form of poor old Lois, Other than crushing to a pulp or tearing our 'ace reporter apart.. The only way around this romantic dilema is for Lois to have a lump of Kryptonite to hand to dampen our heroes ardour when needed and some 'toys' from Anne Summers, or someplace for when she's feeling 'up for it. But they should never be'up for it together'...It'll end in.. Well, it'll end in YUK!!!!......Superman needs to get a hobby to take his mind off Lois.....Maybe the trumpet, but then again maybe not.

96...R.I.P......I DON'T BELIEVE IN GHOSTS ,BUT I DO BELIEVE IN SPIRIT.

( I found this drawing from years ago, i can't remember why it was drawn )

but it suddenly seemed right.

20 Years ago 96 people were killed at Hillsborough while waiting to watch Liverpool F.C. play a game of 'footy' against Nottingham Forest in the cup. They would never live to see the game.. In an example of ,stupidity, incompetence, madness, insanity that bordered on murder, these people were crushed to death and many more were badly injured. Newspapers claimed the Liverpool crowds caused the disaster; Bodies were robbed and defiled ,etc, etc..... Even today all these years later The Sun newspaper isn't stocked in newsagents around Liverpool and many 'Scousers' refuse to soil their hands with the newsprint. 2Days ago Anfield was filled with family, well wishers , players old and new ,dignitaries, etc to pay respects to those who died and suffered so needlessly all those years ago. Silences were observed and proper respect was given by so many people as the ground and the city ground to a silent halt . Not just Reds ,But Blues ,and not just football supporters, just people, Liverpool people..'Scousers' !

Liverpool has always been a rough ol' town. As many sea ports it has its own character and spirit. It has hard knuckles but also a soft heart. Liverpool is fiercly independant and will take no crap off anybody. It can be vicous and nasty, but it more often is warm and funny. Liverpool knows its faults and must take the blame for many of them, but nowhere near all of them. Liverpool hasn't been given much, compared to what has been taken from it. Liverpool owes nothing to nobody. Liverpools treasure lies in the spirit and honesty of its people. At Anfield all was well until a politician got up to 'give a speech'..... He didn't get far and was drowned right out. Liverpool wants justice for what happened all those years ago, not political bullshit.

Sometimes i get depressed when the place looks like its going to hell in a handcart, but days like the other day, tragic though it is, shows that Liverpool wont forget. And through the 96 the spirit of Liverpool will glow ever brighter.

BOND IS BACK, BUT IS HE OO7, OR OO?

The other night after a few pints with a few mates in the fine city of Liverpool, now uncultured, just as we've always loved it. I returned to the bosom of my beloved, the lovely Lynne, who proved her loveliness by getting a chinese. Not a person on the couch in front of me, that would be silly, after what happened last time!..No, this time she got a take away meal for us to enjoy as we watched the DVD of 'A QUANTUM OF SOLACE'. The new James Bond film, of course. Now i am a confessed lover of everything Bond and always look foreward to the next film and rewatch the old ones again and again. I also think that Danny Craig ,the new boy is very good and thought Casino Royale was very good too. So, when i went to the pictures a few months ago, my spirits were high and there was something approaching excitment in my middleaged (slighty) protruding belly. But watching it, i thought the best word for it is, 'frenetic'. I put it down to sitting too close to the screen. But watching the DVD, it was worse. The film makers,in my considered opinion starting with the BOURNE films got increasingly 'frenetic'. They have decided 'The MTV generation' think that Frenzied and Frenetic means exciting and action-packed. Then this lousy stupid way of filming started turning up all over the place. Spiderman 3, compared to the first two was frenetic; The Dark Knight, frenetic. Now They've decided that 'Frenetic'is what we want. Whereas as far as i'm concerned these 'frenetically edited scenes are just totally baffling and confusing. I think i'll send them the bill for a new remote control, after the hammering it got watching Bond ."What happened there? Wind it back!". This went on for most of the film. So after a dissappointing meet up with my old hero, the lovely Lynne tells me "You stink of garlic!" I wasn't shaken or stirred, i was gutted. This never happens to James Bond.

CHARLES DARWIN & SON ; THE MOON MOVING AWAY FROM THE PLANET OF THE APES AND THE SHREWSBURY CARTOON FESTIVAL....

I'll tell you something those DARWIN fellahs were clever fellahs. Discovering the EVOLUTION OF THE SPECIES and making biology the new physics, and, according to some nutballs ,he 'killed god??'....But ,most important without the great intellect and genius of Charles Darwin we'd never have had the PLANET OF THE APES FILMS( Five of 'em.) And the telly series....

But what isn't generally known, but i shall now reveal to you seekers of knowledge, is that, Good ol' Charlies son, GEORGE DARWIN.Not a great lover of worms plants n' monkeys. Made a lifetime study of the tides. Which must've been a little awkward in Shrewsbury. But he carried on searching high n' low (tides) for the answers to a heap of tidal questions. He clicked onto the fact that the moon had something to do with it. And also calculated that the moon is moving away from the Earth.(celestial objects ,like people just drift apart, i s'pose. But people move apart faster than 3 1/2 cms/ year.).....This Darwinian insight was confirmed much later by a certain Mr NEIL ARMSTRONG and colleagues on the APOLLO missions to our lunar companion. It's sad to think that our friendly 'man in the moon' is in the process of packing his spotted hanky on his stick to start his journey to who knows where in the universe ,boldly going where no moon has gone before, etc,etc.Or just crashing into Jupiter or something.

It is the anniversary of Charles Darwins birth and is being deservedly celebrated in his hometown of SHREWSBURY, at the annual SHREWSBURY CARTOON FESTIVAL,Which is themed on Darwin and the Natural sciences in tribute to the great man. The festival is on in april and well worth a visit(24-26th April, i think.) And also gives me an excuse to use the cartoons i submitted here. See! There's madness behind my method.

CLOTHES MAKETH THE MAN,SO WHY WEAR THOSE STUPID F***'IN WOOLY BOBBLE HATS ,'COS THEY DON'T??????......

If you are into clothes and fashion and are of a 'trendy bent', as a lot of chaps n' chapesses are these fashion concious days. In fact it seems that the buying of the' right gear' is more important than buying boring stuff like food for the family, etc. I have never been a victim of fashion, although people might agree that i'm a fashion victim . Or ,even not fashion concious, but more fashion unconcious. I can understand the urge of some people when they see some people wearin 'the next big thing', and want to get in there before everyone and those over 25 start wearing them. But what i can't understand is why people start wearing cloths in a certain way, which catches on. Like wearing jeans with the arse hanging down around their knees. And the length about 2 ft too long so all the water and shit they drag their manky unlaced 'pumps' through is soaked up by the ridiculously flared denim. The fact that some odd sorts look at that and think "cool, i want sooooo much to look like that!"...Very strange. Well, i'm too old to understand whats 'in', 'on the street.'

The other thing of equal bafflement and beffudlement to me is how these odd bods, trendy tho' they may be can look at those ridiculous brightly psychadelically coloured woollen bobble hats with the ear flaps and long bobbled straps hanging from them. Then think "wow! They're soooooo cool, i want to have one and walk around looking like a real cool dude(gobshite)." I hate them .I get this unreasonable urge to grab the wearers bobbled toggles and strangle the stupid moronic prick with them. I'd give them a kick up the arse as well, but the droopy arse look does serve as a defensive mechanism. It looks like they've had an embarrassing accident or a distended rectum, either way it looks like a place you wouldnt like to plant your boot.

REMEMBER WHEN SPORTSMEN BROKE PROPER BONES?

I'm not a great sport fan, i used to watch Liverpool many years ago and had a season ticket for a few years once upon a lifetime ago. I do enjoy watching old games and old boxing on the 'box' from time to time. There's a channel called ESPN on the SKY network and they show old sporting events. I've just been watching a heap of old Liverpool games from the 70's and early 80's. And a series of documentaries on various old time boxers. Things just seemed more real and exciting, as well as 'harder.' There was a documentary about 'Football..The wonderful game'..All about the 70's . It was great all these teams with shocking haircuts;Droopy mustaches; Shorts that were so tight they seperated the blood in the legs from the blood in the rest of the body. Thats probably why the players were always boozing n' shagging all those models, etc...As soon as they took those shorts off and the blood from above and below re-connected in the 'middle-nether reigons'..Well, i'd rather not think about it, it makes you wonder about the team bath. The pitches started the season green and pristine. A few showers of rain and a few games and the bowling green became a bog. This was also the days when tackling was allowed. Players, who wouldn't be allowed in the ground, these days, even if they were allowed out of the solitary padded cell in the psychiatric hospital they were sentanced to spend their life in. In those days they were encouraged, cheered and praised for attempted murder every Saturday afternoon. God bless Tommy Smith! The players used to suffer from proper medical conditions....None of your damaged meta-tarsels, ligament or tendon damage...... It was stuff like "He's done his leg in.... Busted his foot .....Done his knee....Or had his nose busted!!!" All this was cured by the cold wet sponge that had spent the game festering in stagnant water in an old club rusty bucket before being slapped, not placed, but slapped onto the 'sore bit'. 9 times out of 10, the player saw the bucket and sponge coming , muttered 'Sod that!', suddenly found the inner strength to ignore the pain and get back into the battle, it wasn't a game. As the immortal BILL SHANKLEY once said about football being a matter of life or death.."No, son , it's far more important than that".