Police State-Shoplifters Of The World Unite!

The bastard who did this should hang!

When I was coming round this morning I got an awful shock, up popped Caroline Spelman MP, Minister of State for Mithering and Nannying. I can't stand the woman.

She was banging on, with that smug look on her face, about fines for that awful crime of leaving your wheelie bin lid up and the even more anti-social crime of leaving your wheelie bin out too early.

 The world is crumbling, it looks like we're limbering up for bombing the crap out of Syria and the unelected EU dictator of Italy wants to close down Italian football and that silly cow is banging on about wheelie bin lids!

The thrust of what she was on about? Well, our glorious unelected government has lowered the fines for the above offences to a mere £80. She proudly proclaimed that the previous fines were disproportionate and the new fines put the guilty on a par with shoplifters. Oh yippy bloody doo! So our glorious nanny state equates putting your bin out a day early with shoplifting. Says it all really.

Over to you Morrissey and The Smiths, a song that has never been more relevant:

Morrissey/The Smiths-I Want The One I Cant Have!

I often think of the opening lines to this classsic Smiths number, especially in relation to somebody I've suffered these last few weeks:

"On the day that your mentality, decides to try, and catch up with your biology". It's better than being happy in the haze of a drunken hour I suppose.

The Smiths, Divine Comedy and Sir Viv Richards

What links The Smiths, Divine Comedy and Sir Viv Richards?

Tonight I'm off to Lancashire County Cricket Club's Old Trafford home for a Sportsman's Dinner. Sir Viv Richards, one of the greatest ever cricketers is the guest speaker and proceeds go to the LCC Youth Development Section to support the next generation of young world class Lancastrian cricketers.

In 2002 I was at Old Trafford, the home of Lancashire County Cricket Club to see David Bowie. Supporting Bowie that day were Suede and Divine Comedy.

In 2004 I saw Morrissey doing one of his legendary performances at Old Trafford. Half a mile from where he grew up on King's Road, and slap bang next to what is now a B&Q. When Morrissey and I were kids the B&Q was the Hardrock/Village, an interchangeable disco/concert venue.

So linking my bash tonight at Old Trafford with The Smiths and Divine Comedy is the following Divine Comedy cover version of a classic Smiths song. Hope you like it Sean but I'm not holding my breath!

Chappati Corner v Rusholme Ruffians and The Smiths

It's a definite sign of the times to me Chappati Corner, a very good one too.

I went to school in Rusholme, Manchester. In my first year there was one curry house, a sari shop and an Asian bank. By the time I was in sixth form we were having samosas and seek kebabs for lunch, today it is known as The Curry Mile.

For a few years Rusholme ruled supreme and you could get fantastic, reasonably priced curries. Then in my view, something went wrong. The prices soared and the standards plumetted. The food was no longer unique to each particular restaurant and a similarity between most restaurants crept in. I've since been told that many of them now use mass produced jars of curry paste. Not good.

So a few years ago I started experimenting further afield and now, when I'm in Manchester, I go to Cheetham Hill, by far better than many of the restaurants in Rusholme but not the place to go for a romantic meal. Most of the best are cafes or takeaways with two or three tables. You won't usually get a pint to quaff either, it'll be Coke or the jug of water on the table. But the food is home cooked, excellent quality and fantastic value.

I took a great friend to my favourite on Wednesday before the FC United game, Chappati Corner on Cheetham Hill Road, a short walk from the wonderful Jewish Museum.  The menu changes every day usually a lamb dish, a chicken dish and a vegetarian. When you're next in Manchester you must visit but be careful, it closes around 5-00pm.

If you are in Manchester in the evening and really want to go to a restaurant rather than a cafe I recommend Darbar on Wilmslow Road in Rusholme, near the Great Western Street junction. It's nowhere near as cheap as Chappati Corner but the food is fantastic.

Which leads me nicely into one of The Smiths' greate tracks, Rusholme Ruffians:

Panic On The Streets Of London

The Smiths-Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

This is amazing. If I'd had a music teacher like this who knows?



Then here is The Smiths' original version:



I bet The Smiths didn't have a music teacher like that. Which says something.

Poor Old Hare Krishnas in Leicester

We have a Buddhist temple up the road in Cumbria where monks and other Buddhists head to for retreats and things. Our local train from Lancaster often has Buddhist monks in their saffron robes heading up there. I still get a shock when I pass through the carriage to find, when I reach them, that they are not Tibetans but often Mancunians, Scousers or Cockneys. I find it quite eccentric, but admit to liking it, as far as I know Buddhists don't tend to hurt people.

So I was saddened today to hear that a Hare Krishna temple in Leicester has burnt down. Thankfully nobody seems to have been seriously hurt.

But it does remind me of a wonderful verse from Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before by The Smiths:

I was delayed, I was way-laid
An emergency stop, I smelt the last ten seconds of life
I crashed down on the crossbar
And the pain was enough to make
A shy, bald, Buddhist reflect
And plan a mass murder
Who said lied I'd to her?
Oh, who said I'd lied because I never? I never!
Who said I'd lied because I never?

Tell you what, why not listen to the whole wonderful song?



I hope the Hare Krishnas in Leicester soon recover.

Morrissey

The lad's on the mend, thankfully. So enjoy:



Pure class.

Friday Funday

Here's punk band Half Man Half Biscuit with a pleasant little ditty about growing up playing subbuteo. It also inspired me to get my Dukla Prague away shirt from Toffs.



Followed by a tribute to The Smiths by the late, great Bernard Manning.



But that must be balanced with a performance from the genius himself live at Old Trafford, Manchester:

The Headmaster Ritual

I've spent some time this week in a couple of local schools and it was a tremendous experience. If you read the newspapers and watch the TV news you get the impression that kids do nothing but run around stabbing each other, and the occasional teacher. Not so in these schools.

In both I found the pupils to be polite and attentive and the teachers dedicated and professional. Neither was a particularly 'posh' school, I would guess they were full of kids with parents ranging from middle class to working class, in fact the full spectrum. Note no upper class as they have been wiped out after decades of socialism and pinko liberalism.

My last school experience had been in a particularly pretentious private school where the juniors were made to wear Dicken's style smocks. And yes that was this century! I used to think that if I had kids I would send them to private school, not a chance now.

Anyway, as I do occasionally I will now indulge my Morrissey/Smiths addiction with The Headmaster Ritual. Here is a link to the live Smiths' performance on YouTube, and below are the words. Singalong now:

Belligerent ghouls
Run Manchester schools

Spineless swines
Cemented minds


Sir leads the troops
Jealous of youth
Same old suit since 1962


He does the military two-step
Down the nape of my neck


I wanna go home
I don't wanna stay
Give up education
As a bad mistake


Mid-week on the playing fields
Sir thwacks you on the knees


Knees you in the groin
Elbow in the face
Bruises bigger than dinner plates


I wanna go home
I don't wanna stay


Da-da-da ...


Belligerent ghouls
Run Manchester schools


Spineless bastards all ...


Sir leads the troops
Jealous of youth
Same old jokes since 1902


He does the military two-step
Down the nape of my neck


I wanna go home
I don't want to stay
Give up life
As a bad mistake


Please excuse me from gym
I've got this terrible cold coming on
He grabs and devours
He kicks me in the showers
Kicks me in the showers
And he grabs and devours


I want to go home
I don't want to stay...


Da-da-da ...

Of course you could always change it from Manchester to wherever you want, such as Merseyside.