Today is 6th October 1959

Today is 6th October 1959 because I woke up this morning and felt that I identified as a new born baby. So sorry Mum, you've just been through that long and painful labour I put you through all those years ago all over again. Let's face it everything associated with labour is long and painful. OK that was a corny old attempt at political humour, but give me a break, I am only a few hours old.

Something must have triggered this identifying as a newborn. Maybe it was that poor old Maths teacher who is being disciplined for referring to a girl in his class as a girl. She's decided to identify as a lad you see but the school, rather than telling the girl she's actually Harriet rather than Harry and to stop being silly, suspended the teacher for saying "well done girls" to a group of girls not remembering or caring that Harriet wanted to be Harry that day.

Then again, it may have been triggered by the Church of England deciding that we should respect lads who turn up to school wearing tutus and tiaras. They also urge us to respect whichever gender people identify with. So if 20 stone trucker Shawn decides to pull on a wig, a little black number and a pair of stilletoes remember to call him Sian, otherwise you might be in the shit with the Archbishop. Maybe it has something to do with the C of E's Chief Education Officer being called Nigel Genders. Or is it Nigella today? Not sure.

Then there are the ones who go the whole hog and have their bits lopped off so that they believe that they are actually women. Well sorry but I think the record number of people seeking reversal after sex changes suggests it is a huge mistake and shouldn't really be encouraged. Which leads me very nicely to:

Nico In Manchester

I can't believe I found the following on t'interweb and thank you to whoever put it on YouTube.

This was an amazing night at the Library Theatre in Manchester and it's hard to think it was nearly thirty years ago. It was the first time I saw John Cooper Clarke too, he supported Nico a few times, maybe while she was living in Manchester. I've since seen him with The Fall and on his own at The Roby, in North London, now demolished sadly. He told me some corking funnies outside that night that I doubt he has ever told on stage. In fact I've added a bit of John Cooper Clarke after Nico. Happy memories:

Chris Davies, Lib Dem MEP for North West England

I had an extremely long day yesterday, up at 5 45am to get to Liverpool for a start at 8 00am finishing at 6 00pm. On the way home I had a terrible shock. I had the radio on and heard Chris Davies, Lib Dem MEP for the North West on national radio. For a few horrible seconds I thought I'd fallen asleep at the wheel and was having an awful nightmare, but no I was awake.

Davies was stood on the quayside as they were about to wave the passengers off on the maiden voyage of the Titanic. He was berating a family on the quayside screaming: "I know it's going to hit an iceberg and sink, but the others are on so you should be too. Don't kick the other poor saps in the teeth by staying safely on dry land". Except he was really talking about us not committing suicide with the rest of the EU as if we were doing something evil.

Chris Davies is quite probably going to win my Quisling of the Year award. His hatred of Britain and love of his massive EU salary and allowances makes me sick. Tell you what Chris, piss off and fight the next European election in some French or Italian constituency, you obviously loathe the UK.

This one is just for Monsieur Davies:

John Cooper Clarke-Majorca

Having organised the insurance for our holiday I needed some light relief, dealing with insurance is always such a pain, and got thinking about the Salford Bard and Majorca. Here it is:



But then again, when on holiday pies are something you do miss:

Gordon Brown-Prime Minister-David Cameron Too

Here's one for Gordon Brown.

We've got less than a year now to put up with the git, but will Cameron be any better? In a word, no. So this one's for Dave too, in anticipation of the mess he'll make of it:

Friday Funday

Wizzard, King's Hall, Belle Vue about 1973. I know why! But this will have to do:



Then John Cooper Clarke, the Salford Bard:



For T Bishop Finger, Iggy at the Apollo, Ardwick:

John Cooper Clarke

Here he is Mike. Just a couple:

Michael Moore-Prat!

It's a long time since I gratuitously abused Fatty Moore, so here goes. This John Cooper Clarke classic is dedicated to him. As you will see it is entitled Tw@t, so if that word offends you don't listen.

Holidays

We should have been off to Europe next week for one of our regular breaks, but with the state of the pound we decided it's too expensive at the moment to bother. So here are the words to Majorca by John Cooper Clarke, a poem about package holidays.

m a j o r c a


fasten your seatbelts says a voice
inside the plane you can't hear no noise
engines made by rolls royce
take your choice
...make mine majorca

check out the parachutes
can't be found
alert those passengers
they'll be drowned
a friendly mug says "settle down"
when i came round i was gagged and bound
...for Majorca


and the eyes caress
the neat hostess
her unapproachable flip finesse
i found the meaning of the word excess
they've got little bags if you wanna make a mess
i fancied Cuba but it cost me less
...to majorca


(Whose blonde sand gently caresses the cool blue lips of the mediterranean)

they packed us into the white hotel
you could still smell the polycell
wet white paint in the air-conditioned cells
the waiter smelled of fake chanel
gaulois... garlic as well
says if i like... i can call him "mig u el"
...well really


i got drunk with another fella
who'd just brought up a previous paella
he wanted a fight but said they were yella'
...in Majorca


the guitars rang and the castinets clicked
the double diamond flowed like sick
mother's pride, tortilla and chips
pneumatic drills when you try to kip
...in majorca


a stomach infection put me in the shade
should have joined the international brigade
'cause the fascists won and by christ i paid
...in majorca

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LYRICS © JOHN COOPER CLARKE