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Pigs In Shite

By Phil Thornton


Bob Dylan’s Theme Shows on BBC6digital


Perhaps the greatest radio programmes ever! Each programme takes a lyrical theme - be it ‘fools’, ‘shoes’ or ‘moon’ and Bob links these with his trademark nasal drawl. In fact he sounds like someone doing a bad impression of Bob Dylan but there’s no mistaking his knowledge, his enthusiasm and his often overlooked sense of humour. Part history lesson, part philosophical tract, part comedy routine, part poetry recital, Dylan sticks to mostly soul, blues, jazz and folk with the odd pop tune thrown in but that’s OK, each track has been carefully selected to provide some kind of insight from the Bobster (as he’s known in our house). For example the ‘fools’ programme featured Bob waxing lyrical on everyone from Shakespeare to TS Eliot to Coleridge whilst playing tunes from Bobby Bland, Aretha and Frankie Lymon. We can forgive him selling out to Starbucks for this.


The Protestant Revolution - BBC4


Hey look, another young good-looking hip historian. That’s all we need! Cue, yet another flimsily researched, patronisingly presented Playschool lecture with a few clumsily staged cheapo re-enaction of battles and a load of dodgy CGI effects. But no, hang on, this is ’proper history‘ it has depth, it enlightens, it explains and it doesn’t take sides, it doesn’t preach, it doesn’t get wrapped up in flag waving and myth making, it just tells it like it was in glorious detail. Yes, it sometimes gets wrapped up in its own importance and attempts too broad a sweep across decades, centuries and nations, but atleast The Protestant Revolution treats the viewer with a modicum of intelligence unlike anything the nepotistic Snows, Dimblebys and other patrician whoppers give us.


Amy Winehouse


So she’s a karaoke act, so she disguises her lack of vocal range with Ronan Keating style ’soul grunts,’ so she’s got worse tatts than Tupac and probably the most punchable boyfriend in pop history. Atleast she’s got a personality, atleast she’s got talent and taste (in music if not men), atleast she’s half way fucking interesting. Which, in a female singer songwriter universe filled with Norahs and Nellies, Katies, KTs and Kates, is something we should be thankful for.    



Pigs In Uniform


Scally Moshers


Scoshers? Mollys? Whatever you wanna call these too-old-for-my-chemical-romance-really-like-nu-rave type whoppers, they don’t half remind me of the early scals, dressed in their tight-fitting cardys, Lacoste polos, garish tracky tops, ankle strangler jeans and white or black plimsoles, with their girly, dyed flicks and bouncy bowls. Paul Weller calls his promoter son, a ’Moth’ a mod-goth hybrid, so perhaps these retro-youth cult mutations are gonna come thick n’ fast in today’s post-post-post modern world where nothing is original just a rehash of a revival of a tribute. Not that it’s anything new as Ringo Starr observed when asked in 64 if he was a mod or a rocker. ’Neither, I’m a mocker’ he replied. 



Mowers and shakers


How desperate for a day out do you have to be to visit Southport’s ‘British Lawnmower Museum?’ Even 80 year old Daily Mail reading Alan Titchmarsh fans would surely be hard pressed to find ’this award winning unique museum of over 300 rare restored exhibits of garden machinery’ interesting. If ‘original patents, blueprints and archive history that’s a tribute to the garden machine industry over the past 200 years’ doesn‘t get you wet then the chance to ‘See Prince Charles & Princess Diana’s lawnmower’ might persuade  you to head Ainsdale way with your nan.


More Maconie


There you are flicking through Country Walking magazine and guess who’s got a guest column in there? Stuart Fucking Maconie, that’s who! This chummy Wigan cunt is taking over the world bit by little bit; from the NME to DFS in 15 years. I’m starting the Stop Maconie From Taking over The World Bit By Little Bit Campaign right now. Sign up at stopstuartmaconietakingovertheworldbitbylittlebit.com now!






My dog has a rich and varied life, full of rewarding experiences that he wants to share with you. Here then is mydogsblog.




Woke up, had a piss, ate my brekky (fuckin chicken Chum again), went for a walk, had a shit, came home, have a kip, had a piss, ate me tea (fuckin chicken Chum again), had a kip, went for a walk, had a shit, went sleep.




Woke up, had a piss, ate my brekky (fuckin chicken Chum again), went for a walk, had a shit, came home, have a kip, had a piss, ate me tea (fuckin chicken Chum again), had a kip, went for a walk, had a shit, went sleep.




Woke up, had a piss, ate my brekky (fuckin chicken Chum again), went for a walk, had a shit, came home, have a kip, had a piss, ate me tea (fuckin chicken Chum again), had a kip, went for a walk, had a shit, went sleep.




Woke up, had a piss, ate my brekky (fuckin chicken Chum again), went for a walk, had a shit, came home, have a kip, had a piss, ate me tea (fuckin chicken Chum again), had a kip, went for a walk, had a shit, went sleep.




Woke up, had a piss, ate my brekky (fuckin chicken Chum again), went for a walk, had a shit, came home, have a kip, had a piss, ate me tea (fuckin chicken Chum again), had a kip, went for a walk, had a shit, went sleep.




Went Delamere forest! Got attacked by two staffs. Went vets. Had emergency op. 




Died of shock.


Next month - my daughter’s hamster’s blog.





The Ten Commandments of Art


1          Stay humble yet nurse a huge ego. Pass this off as a post-modern paradox.


2          Practice your spontaneity - you never know when it’ll come in handy.


3          Fake wisdom whenever you can but never get smarmy. Everyone loves a wise guy and despises a smart-arse.


4          Never answer a question with an answer; you don’t have to explain anything.


5          Remain calm under fire, after all no-one ever died from a bum review.


6          Get a gimmick and sell your arse like a ten bob rent boy because that’s exactly what you are.


7          Never whine! Art is a bourgeois commodity. Accept it. Art is the last refuge of those with nothing better to do with their lives.


8          Don’t be precious. Nothing you create, nothing you think, nothing you say, nothing you do has not been created, thought, said or done before by people far more talented than you.


9          Never equate success with talent. Some of the most successful artists of all time were utterly talent less. 


10         Trust your own instincts. All art is vanity, so be totally self-indulgent and ignore the views of others. If you die poor then at least you’ve remained true to your vision. Sucker!    



Where Are They Now # 32 - The Lotus Eaters


Perhaps best known for their 1983 pop smash, The First Picture Of You, Peter Coyle and Jeremy Kelly aka The Lotus Eaters were the epitome of undernourished, fey 80s indie music, so it’s surprising to see them almost a quarter of a century later running one of Britain’s most ruthless debt collection agencies, ‘Lotus Eaters Debt Recovery Ltd.’


Their charming corporate slogan is ’Pay Up Or Else!’ and Peter jokes, ’you don’t wanna know what the ’or else’ is lad. Put it this way a few years back we had to collect ten bags of sand from a Glaswegian drug dealer who’d ripped off one of Liverpool’s top gangsters. We flew straight up there and found this tit in his local alehouse bold as brass, with his crew all round him. But as soon as me and Jerry walked in, they took one look at us and they were on their fuckin’ toes kidda. Innit? One lad went ‘fuck me it’s the Lotus Eaters’ and jumped straight through the window to get away. That’s kind of clout we’ve got. Needless to say the drug dealer paid up on the spot….plus expenses’ he winks.


So how did Peter and Jeremy get into this business in the first place?


‘Easy really’ Jeremy answers, still dressed in his fetching box cap ’it was just a natural progression from singing twee pop tunes on Top Of The Pops when you think about it. After our careers went tits up in the mid-80s, I was on the bones of me arse lad, the label had dropped us, I’d bought a huge fucking Edwardian house in Seffy Park and I had the bailiff knocking me up at 6 o’clock in the morning trying to re-possess me Bang and Olufsen kidda. I got talking to this fellar and he took pity on me because he was a massive Lotus Eaters fan who was coming up to retirement. He offered us his business for a signed copy of ’No Sense Of Sin’ and my daughter’s hand in marriage. She was only 4 at the time but I agreed immediately. We were in business! The Debt collection business lad. Laughin! Anway that’s how we started but it hasn’t all been plain sailing.’


‘Talking of sailing,’ interrupts Peter, ’we had to twat that Duran Duran once because they didn’t pay the lease on that yacht they rented for the Rio video. Simon Le Bon tried to front it out, said he’d weighed in the yacht firm but I just butted the cunt and took the keys to his Ferrari. That Nick Rhodes tried to jump in but Jerry slashed the Lady Di bastard right down his over-rouged cheek, didn’t yer Jed?’


‘Oh aye,’ smiles Jeremy, ’happy days lad!’


So what are the future plans for Lotus Eaters Debt Recovery?


‘To be honest,’ Peter replies, ’I think we’ve reached a bit of a career plateau in the debt recovery caper and I want to move into total personal protection. I’ve been a bodyguard for all sorts of people, from Everton defender Alan Stubbs right through to internationally respected despots like Robert Mugabe. Just mentioning the words Lotus Eaters sends shivers down people’s backs. We get instant respect in this game and I think we should capitalise on that and go for the big bucks out in Iraq and Afghanistan.’


Jeremy however, isn’t so sure.


‘I don’t think we’ve got anything to prove. I’ve had enough of calling round old women’s bungalows and taking thei rent books off em cos they’re three weeks late on their Argos bill. I think we should open a smoothie bar, that’s the future!’




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