Saturday, April 19, 2008

What's wrong with giving some freedom to Herbert the Hairdresser? (Don't all answer at once...)

SECRET plans to give Herbert the hairdresser the freedom of the city have been kaiboshed after a furious row amongst the Lib Dems.
Lord Mayor Paul Clarke has become a firm friend of Herbert during his term of office, judging by the number of pictures they have had taken together.
So it was no surprise when Clark put forward Herbert the Hairdresser's name (it is Herbert Howe, donchaknow, eds) to the Fireman and Storyteller as a next Freeman of the City.
Herbert's work for charidee was singled out by Clark for special praise, as was his connection with various 'slebs' , WAGS and the usual suspects who turn up to every new bar opening.
The Fireman and Storeyteller throught the nomination might help them out politically, reasoning that a little bit of showbiz gold dust would bring some much needed lustre to the tired Lib Dems.
But they decided on caution first.
When preliminary 'soundings were taken' all hell suddenly let loose in the Lib Dem group, with emails, phone call and hurried conversations flying about the place.
The upshot of which was that the nomination was hurriedly withdrawn.
Quite why Herbert was not considered a suitable candidate for the freedom of Liverpool, we can only guess at.
One source tells us he was considered 'highly inappropriate'. Colin CoverUp was also apparently vehemently opposed. (Obviously incorrect, he doesn't get vehement about anything, eds)
Pity, because it would have brought smiles to the faces of millions if Herbert had been given the freedom to drive some sheep down the centre of Dale Street.
What other liberties he would have taken with being a Freeman, we can only speculate about. Answers on a postcard please.
We sincerely hope now, however, that his friend and another remarkable and extremely talented Liverpool celebrity, Mr Pete Price will begin an investigation or public campaign and expose those who opposed Herbert's nomination.
Pete has already (perfectly reasonably, eds) put Herbert forward as a potential elected Mayor of Liverpool in his remarkable and utterly spellbinding Secret Diary blog.
Only someone like Sinbad, or possibly Dean Sullivan, could possibly rival such a candidate. Surely?

Meanwhile we will leave you with more pictures of Herbert the hairdresser in action bringing joy and happiness with all his amazing charidee work. Enjoy.

Monday, April 14, 2008


Guess what the Culture Company theme song is?

It's here:

Gallows humour has gripped the Fun Palace as staff watch the £150,000-a-year-plus executives flap around like headless chickens. With one exception - as the Macca ultimatum over Anfield was delivered, CoC Director Donald Bullshitter departed out of the door without an apparent care in the world. Staff have come up with their own theme tune to celebrate the contribution to 2008 made by the likes of Bullshitter, Our Lord Redmond, Jase, McCogloose, et al.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

'There will be no whitewash at the White House," said Tricky Dicky, before Watergate...will Bradley & Storey be in the dock at Liverpool Town Hall?

FIREMAN Bradley and the Storeyteller face a 'Watergate' style public trial by watchdogs.

That is the strong and mounting speculation as investigators from the Standards Board spend their second week in the city.

Last week they questioned Labour Leader Joe Anderson and former Events boss Lee Forde over allegations that Bradley and Storey conspired to get rid of the Harbarrowboy with secret meetings and threatening emails, etc.

Meanwhile Jase conducted a telephone interview with investigators from his home in Spain, where he was relaxing in his hammock in the hacienda counting his £250,000 council taxpayers pay-off and eating ice-creams.

This week the Standards Board, which is responsible for monitoring the ethical conduct of councillors, has been interviewing Bradley and Storeyteller for their side of the story.

It turns out that the pair of them have, totally predictably, been blaming everyone but themselves for their behaviour.

"No guv, it wan't me, guv" goes the Fireman's explanation, "it was all that Lee Forde fella and Finnegan's fault."

(Is Bradley this gifted with alliteration? eds)

Quite how anyone but Bradley could have sent emails, text messages and passed the Perroni at his house while plotting to 'do in' Jase is anyone's guess.

It has become increasingly clear however, that Bradley has no intention of falling on his sword (to quote an expression first coined by Sir Diddy, interestingly) and intends to brazen the whole thing out.

The Storyeteller dare not cough to anything, because they would lock him up and throw away the key after first disbarring him for life from public office for his second offence.

So it seems likely that the Standards Board will take such a grave view of Bradley and Storey's behaviour and their refusal to admit their guilt, that they will haul the pair of them in front of a special adjudication committee at the Town Hall.

Anderson, Forde and the Harbarrowboy would all be called to give evidence in public, while Bradley and Storey would presumably take the fifth or try to blame everyone else.

Of course neither of them would have any control over other relevant evidence and the extremely detailed testimony which would be aired in public against them.

We have already booked ringside seats for these Watergate hearings and are currently negotiating with the Harbarrowboy for the ice cream sales concession.

Souvenir 't' shirts, paper hats and lapel badges are already in production (at a very modest and reasonable price, off the back of a lorry, eds)

And we are cureently talking to YouTube about live 'streaming' of proceedings for the expected global TV audience (well more people than will be watching Macca at Anfield, anyway. eds)

Whatever, this extraordinary spectacle would certainly further drag Liverpool's name through the mud on top of all the other Lib Dem sleaze and incompetence and failure. Which wouldn't bother either Bradley or Storey of course.

Such is their brass neck.

Friday, April 04, 2008


THE craven Echo's self-styled controversial columnist Joe Riley has been getting into more hot water.

You will recall that Riley survived, (thanks to the blog going public with it, eds) demands from 'Randy' Paul Newman to be sacked for dozing off during Jimmy McGovern's boring play.

But now Riley, affectionately known as Mr Bumble by scribes at Trinity Mirror, has put his foot in it again.

The craven Echo, which is world famous for its ready wit and erudition as well as its campaigning and investigative journalism, decided to play a little April Fools Day prank on its loyal readers.

So those wacky full-of-fun madcap lads and lasses from the management team huddled together in a corner and came up with a brilliant and oh-so-humorous wheeze.

"I know," they said, "why don't we make up a story about a new bridge across the Mersey to the Isle of Man? That will have them all in stitches in Anfield."

So after the pranksters fought each other for the honour of making this proposal to EDITOR, Ali Mackray, the go-ahead was given.

Millions of readers guffawed their heads off and some were actually taken to Fazakerley because their sides had split open so much.

Oh how we laughed, especially since the story was identical to the 14,356 other Echo stories which have appeared throughout the last ten years, giving free publicity to any insane, no-hope-in-hell-chance-of-it-ever-happening scheme dreamed up by some property developer/speculator/cowboy on the back of a fag packet after two many G&Ts.

But there was one exception to the universal, almost hysterical, amusement caused by the article.

Step forward Mr Bumble.
Our Joe had not been included in the April 1st loop by those wise-cracking, playful Echo executives.

And he took serious umbrage at the madcap plan.

So much so, that he penned one of his distinctive semi-hysterical rants about the scheme for the next's day's Echo.

It was only an eagle-eyed sub-editor who was designing Riley's column, (shurely some mistake? eds) who spotted that Joe had been taken in by the wheeze.

And that the penny had never dropped with him - despite the laughter which had coursed through the Old Hall Street sanatorium like a raging torrent whenever the EDITOR was around.

Some lackey was then deputed to gently break the news to the bumbling Mr Bumble that the bridge story was a spoof.

Mr Bumble's florid chops were, apparently, even redder than usual, when he found out.

Meanwhile, come the revolution, we plan to take out the eagle eyed-sub editor and have him shot at dawn.

If only he had stayed schtum!