"Has Anybody Seen My Quiche?"

The quiet week leading up to Easter and resultant sparse work commitments meant me going back to Blackpool and being acquainted with my girlfriend´s new dog – he´s the biggest pup I´ve ever laid eyes on - a sort of Pit Pony/hearth rug cross called Rigsby. He´s quite an endearing chap actually and fairly agile for his size has he proved when managing to scoop out the leftover half of my cheese and onion flan off the top of the oven when I wasn´t looking.


Also in Blackpool were Nigel and Yvonne from the Cumberland Bar and we met up for a livener in the British Legion on Friday afternoon, this short liaison was stretched to a walk down the road to the “Catholic Club” on Queens Street where a delightfully grumpy Glaswegian bloke kept us entertained as he battled the drunken locals who were coerced by him into a game of “Hoy” which is a sort of playing card bingo with no rules (or so it seemed to us). Whilst on our travels we bumped into a couple of our members from the Cumberland Ex-Servicemen´s Club –“ Jimmy kneecaps” and “Jukebox” Johnny. – Much laughter and jollity ensued and we just sort of lost track of time.

Unfortunately for me the day after was set aside for a house removal of Nikki´s gear from a flat in the town centre to a house on an estate in Bispham and, as I´d woken up feeling awful and gradually deteriorated from there, I was eventually reduced to a shambling (and retching) wreck and she was lucky that the new sofa bed arrived in the same colour that it was when it set off.

The wonderful array if characters in England´s premier tourist spot constantly amuse me, and apart from the eccentric oddballs found in the clubs, I bumped into a chap ambling down the street with a ferret on his shoulder. And do you know what, - I´m not certain that he knew it was there.

Back in Benidorm now where tomorrow night I look forward to trying to entertain the backs of necks of the massed ranks in “Sinatras” as they crane their heads towards the Manchester United Bayern Munich champions league quarter final being played out on the widescreen television to stage left. I can´t wait.

"I Am A Singer - Therefore I Out Rank You"

Had an action packed night at “Sinatras” the other night, an otherwise wonderfully attentive and suitably engrossed audience of senior citizens were shaken to their core every few minutes by a vociferous Manchester United fan watching the widescreen television near the stage. I was warned before hand by the act that preceded me that he was in fact mentally handicapped which made it next to impossible for me to shout him down. So I, along with the audience had to grin and bear it as a series of joyous expletives echoed around the shocked arena every time they scored (they won 4-0). The first one was a shrill “Get in there you f×××××g beauty” followed by a bellowing “Oooooh you t××t!! – presumably aimed at the referee. I did my best to ignore him, but my god it was difficult.

At the end of my show I come out as Eric Morecambe and mime to “Bring me sunshine”, I immediately see a bloke sat in the front row with a haircut not unlike that of Ernie Wise only darker. I thought it would be a wheeze to lift up the front of his fringe as Eric would do with Ernie pretending he was wearing a wig. The only problem was that it really was a wig! – and although it didn´t come away in my hand exactly it definitely moved a bit, and I at once realized my error as the texture between my forefinger and thumb felt something akin to horse hair and the look of sheer terror on the bloke´s face rendered me rigid for a split second. I could see a look of complete helplessness in his eyes and a plea deep in his pupils which said “Please don´t do this” – I felt awful, - especially when it transpired he was Belgian and wouldn´t have had a clue who Eric Morecambe was, and thus rendering the hair tweaking meaningless to him. He must have just thought I´d spotted the fact that he was wearing a rug and gone for it to take the piss. – Sorry mate.

Meanwhile at the “Cumberland Bar” keyboard player Andy Davies has been packing em in on Wednesday nights. Only problem is some of the “Singers” need a small step ladder to climb down from their own arse, and one such elderly gent fitted snugly into this pigeon hole. When he started to advertise that his friend did a spot in a bar on the beach front and that everybody was welcome, Nigel - the owner politely requested him to refrain as we have our own karaoke of an afternoon and he didn´t want his customers coaxing away thank you very much. Our superstar friend didn´t take kindly to this and shouted something along the lines that karaoke is for lesser mortals who probably couldn´t sing properly in the first place and are a somewhat inferior breed of person altogether. This view was not universally accepted and resulted in much muttering in the ranks from our loyal members and when one of our regulars, Terry from Leeds got up to sing he gave a small speech. With piercing eyes and flared nostrils he directed his gaze directly at the irksome little turd. “Can I just say that my kids and grand kids come in here singing karaoke, they are made to feel welcome and have a great time. Also,I happen to know that Joe Longthorne one of the great singers of our time, spends hours on the karaoke, he loves it, says it brings singers of all types together..........................and I, er... don´t like your trousers neither!!” – ( he was sporting a pair of those comical creme slacks, the belt of which hangs snugly somewhere just below the nipples). – His response to this outburst was “Well, we should discuss this outside” and our hero Terry countered – “Yes, we can go outside – but we won´t be discussing it!!” – And we go on about the youth of today!

I must stress that I wasn´t present during all of this and Nigel recounted the events to me this afternoon as I started my shift – the “And I don´t like your trousers neither” line had me in convulsions.

Broadband Saga - Part 1

Ivé decided to get a phone line installed so that I can have broadband which will mean I can download more than half a clip on “You-tube” before my computer slows to jurassic speed and thus converting my life into slow motion.The “Dongle” system is hopelessly one paced and went off all together for a week and a half recently.


The chap from “Telefonica” rolled up last Friday but couldn´t do a thing because we couldn´t locate the junction box – or the porter, who could´ve possibly pointed us in the right direction. He said that he would come back next morning “Between 9 and 10”, so I dutifully waited in even though I knew he wouldn´t be there – especially with it being Saturday – which I had initially overlooked, - which indeed so had he – obviously. So I then waited in on Monday – and nothing – until 1:45pm when he phoned me to say he´d be with me in “15 minutes”. An hour later he polled up and I informed on the intercom to stay down stairs and I would show him the where the junction box was (I´d meantime asked the porter in my pidgin spanish of its whereabouts – he regarded me with bewilderment before answering in English). When I got down there he was nowhere to be seen so I rushed back up the stairs to see him grinning at me outside my door.I practically took him by the hand and led him back down the stairs and to the junction box which resembled a severe explosion in a spaghetti factory. I then told him that I was due in work in 10 minutes and how long would he be, this seemed to baffle him and he then informed me that he had left a tool he needed back at base. “How long” I pleaded. “15 minutes” he replied (I think that “15 minutes” was the only English he knew). Luckily our barman Dave who was in the bar on a social visit agreed to babysit him whilst I went about my shift, and had to wait a further 2 hours for our friend to return and finally install the line. Well, at least that´s done, only problem is “Telefonica” have me down as flat 11B instead of 3B, and when I informed the internet company of this (who have been organizing all this) the girl said “Oh, dont worry about that´cos “Telefonica” work to a different map to the rest of the country”!! – Now, whilst I can fully believe that scenario, unless the postman is also working to their exclusive map, flat 11B are going to receive my bills right? – I´ll let you know. – I´m still waiting for the internet connection by the way.

We´ve Got Film Star´s Coming In Now!

Into the depths of the winter season now, and although work isn´t as plentiful as it once was the stuff that I´ve got left is hugely enjoyable. The Cumberland Ex-Servicemen´s Club throws up the usual array of characters, the latest being a slightly portly gentleman who wanted to jump the singers queue for the karaoke. When the Concert Chairman told him that this was not at all possible he produced a battered old black and white photograph of Sylvester Stallone insisting that it was one of him taken at an earlier date. This was no joke and he did indeed believe he WAS the Hollywood film star, and when he took his turn, he refused to sing until we played “Eye Of The Tiger” as his intro, he loved this and shadow boxed his way on to the stage uttering an expletive with every wayward punch. (He sang a bit like Sylvester Stallone come to think of it).


Whilst sharing a “dressing room” with the girls who do the Abba tribute show in “Sinatras” the other week, one of them asked how the audience were, as I had just come off, - I said they were fine. “Yes, I was told off by standing in the way of someone whilst you were on” said one. Whilst her mate chipped in, and without a hint of malice “No, they were complaining cos they couldn´t see the football on the tele”. Showbiz eh.

The latest venture is a Saturday sports radio show on FabFm Spain that I do with Nigel from the “Cumberland Bar”, this is a joy to do, and the 2 hour show is rounded off in the company of “The Voice Of Reason” – The Concert Chairman, spouting off and proving once and for all he knows absolutely everything about nothing. This available on the internet on www.fabfmspain.com

"Let It Snow, Let It Snow, let It Snow..."

Had my first “White Christmas” since I was a lad, went back home for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, with flight delays and cancellations to the left and to the right of me, somehow managed to land on to the ice cap otherwise known as “Leeds Bradford Airport” the same day I set off. True we had to circle above the thing for a good half hour wondering if we dare plummet down through the clouds and take a chance but we made it the end, and I was only about half an hour late getting to the pre arranged rendezvous down the pub. Night time was a glorious throwback in time at “The Club” playing snooker with the boys, went for a return stint next day before dinner then the usual “Turkey with all the trimmings” – (why do we say that when the trimmings are on the wall?), before slumping on the sofa to the tried and trusted method of playing charades with my nearest and dearest whilst squinting at the box at the same time. (A bit of return to form for the “Royle Family” I thought).


Boxing Day had to dash back to Benidorm for my afternoon shift down the “Cumberland Ex-Servicemen´s Club” which was packed with many a familiar face and a good knees up was had by all. New years Eve was another sell out and yet another liver savaging until about 6am meant I´d reached the end of me tether. Just when I was about to hit the de-tox button Leeds United only go to Old Trafford and knock Man United out of the FA Cup, so damn it all I had to start all over again!

Another new venture, as on Saturday me and Nigel from the “Cumberland” embark on our brand new sports show on “FabFM Spain” radio station,(available on tinternet 5 til 7pm) Think we´re gonna enjoy this, - should be a giggle, as it´s right up our street, - well, not exactly – it´s in Alfaz Del Pi, but you know what I mean.

"Been Down The Smoke Mate"

Just back from a very enjoyable trip back home, firstly to London, where, in order t keep within budget, we stayed in a disabled room at the "Holiday Lodge" near Covent garden. To be fair we didn´t request the disabled room - it´s all they had left, but save for the very low sink and the window that opened with a winding handle on the wall we didn´t notice much difference. Only problem was that the window didn´t shut properly and so I was shunted over to that side of the bed to dutifully sleep in the way of the icy blast for the duration of our stay.

Girlfriend Nikki and I seldom argue, but when we do it tends to be about getting lost, or arriving late somewhere (usually because we´ve got lost). We´d previously located "The Duchess Theatre" TWICE during the day to make sure we knew where it was, but as we exited the coffee shop in the early evening, we still headed in the wrong direction by about 180 degrees. Or at least we would have done if we had followed her instincts, - earlier I had taken the flak for getting us lost the first time around (we had spent most of the day hunting round in bewildered circles, only to find that if we had set off in the opposite direction from the hotel we would have been in the foyer of the theatre within 5 minutes).

The play itself is a one man affair starring Bob Golding, who takes on the daunting role as one of our greatest ever comics Eric Morecambe, it was a sterling effort and he received a standing ovation on its completion. As we came out into the night air we came across an old fashioned bicycle tethered to the lamp post and thought how wonderful it would have been if Eric would have peeped round the stage door with a long trench coat, flat cap and carrier bag, put on a pair of cycle clips and rode off into the night shouting "We-he-hey!"(But he didn´t).

The train journey back to Blackpool was a long and expensive one, costing about twice as much as the flight from Spain a couple of days before, and we came to a juddering halt as the train in front broke down in Wakefied Station. This ensured that we neatly missed our connection from Leeds by three minutes and had to wait another hour for the next one.

We drank down our 100th coffee of the trip in ´Starbucks´ and then had a nosey round the visitors centre. - Visitors centre? - in Leeds? We eventually made steady progress towards the west coast until a points failure at Poulton-Le-Fylde" which meant shifting from crawling along at 4.5 miles per hour and coming to a blind stop at regular intervals. By the time we arrived it had been dark for about four hours and we had lost an entire day somewhere.

The two days in Blackpool were spent reading about the Queens visit for the Royal Variety Show a couple of days previously and fending off chilblains.

Benidorm Fiestas

To the Spanish, the fiestas are a collection of spectacular street parades, travelling fun fairs, bustling roadside markets and wondrous breathtaking firework displays. To the British it´s a chance to get paralytic dressed as Donald Duck - each to their own eh!?

I would like to start by thanking Chubby Brown, Sharon and Ozzy Osbourne, Bam Bam, Jeff Lynne, Big Chief Sitting Bull, The Virginian, Cocoa the clown (2 of), Reverand green from "Cluedo", Rod Stewart, Amy Winehouse, a team of zombies, a surgeon, sailor, soldier, a nun a honey bee, the "Great Big Sheikh Of Bury", a group of posh looking birds from the roaring 20´s and the many more who turned out for the annual fancy dress day at The Cumberland Bar as part of the climax of the November fiestas here in Benidorm. I personall incurred a blistered inner top lip as a result of the rubber teeth as part of the old "Dick Emery´s vicar routine", but it was well worth it.