Wednesday, 18 March 2020
A new addition to the Wilson McGladdery show, is Paul’s shanty about local sea captain, James Blackheart. Following the recent discovery of Blackheart’s love letters to Paul’s great aunt Betty, whom Blackheart subsequently dumped, Paul’s been hanging around the graveyard like an obese cack handed Morrissey, researching the sailors life from cradle to grave. He’s found out Blackheart was born locally, in the cottages where Kwik Save now stands and is buried in the churchyard, ‘WITH........wait for it, wait for it,’ says Paul drumming up excitement, ‘his three wives, ALL of whom, pre-deceased him!’ ‘Hhmmm interesting’ smiles Gaynor, sitting up from her usual horizontal position. ‘No doubt in mysterious circumstances,’ she lights a Park Drive. ‘What evidence do you have to suspect Blackheart of foul play?’ ‘Only his villainous name and a desire to revenge the reputation of great Aunt Betty,’ replies Paul, with a rare steely look in his eye. ‘A villainous name is enough for me!’ exclaims Gaynor. ‘To the Mystery Machine!!’ she points to the empty street through the window ‘Bags, being Daphne!’ Pixie Lott jumps in playfully. ‘Yeah right!’ replies Gaynor pulling rank, nobody but her can be socialite millionaire’s daughter, Daphne Blake, when she’s having a ‘Scooby Doo’ moment. 'Bags, being Shaggy’ shouts Ed Sheeran. No one objects.
Thursday, 27 February 2020
Paul’s in the old Butler’s pantry restringing his guitars. The local vicar pops his head round the corner, ‘You’re not bad for a one hander on that, are you? He says pointing at the guitar. Paul can hear the girls, Gaynor and Pixie Lott sniggering just out of sight. ‘There’s some change on the meter box near the front door’ says Paul, not looking up from his work, ‘that’s all the money I have.’ ‘No, I don’t want money’ the vicar laughs, as if a request for cash is a rarity for him. ‘Can you come with me? I’m conducting an experiment.’ Paul knows they won’t leave him alone until they’ve poked their fun, so he grumpily puts down his string winder and follows the vicar upstairs. In the living room, there’s Ed Sheeran and his gangland associate LJ with the girls, all clearly excited about something. ‘Right!’ exclaims the vicar, ‘the only way we can get rich quickly,’ ‘Without any effort!’ quips Sheeran over him. ‘Yes thank you Ed’ continues the vicar, ‘is our own YouTube channel with funny videos on it.’ ‘Right’ says Paul, looking around for an explanation. ‘So video number 1’ announces the vicar, handing Paul the cheapest in the range of supermarket carrier bags, ‘Can a one handed man open a supermarket carrier bag? Go! Start filming!’ whereupon all the camera phones in the room lock on him. ‘Ah! my arch nemesis’ laughs Paul, lightening up a little, ‘there’s definitely a knack to this.’ 90 seconds later, ‘I’ve almost got the seam....’ ‘This is gold!’ whispers Sheeran to the vicar.
Monday, 27 January 2020
Thursday night has become Gaynor’s dancing night. The local vicar’s first to notice the Gaynor shaped impression on the sofa. ‘Where’s thingy’ he says, ‘she’s always there!’ And he’s right! About this time, they’ll watch ‘Crossroads’ together and sing along with the theme music. Afterwards he’ll call her ‘Miss Diane’ and act like Benny, all coy and awkward like. He even bought a pigging woolly hat. On the same day, Paul notices the living room isn’t cluttered with empty beer bottles and the ash trays aren’t full. Though nothing fully registers until he meets with JK Rowling later in the Dog & Gun. She innocently asks, ‘How are Gaynor’s dancing classes doing?’ ‘Our Gaynor?’ he replies, ‘I don’t think she’s danced since the Membranes were accidentally booked to play the Women’s Institute Xmas Dinner’ he laughs. ‘She pogoed all night’ he smiles at the memory, ‘she was the only one mind.’ ‘Dancing??’ exclaims the vicar to Paul later, ‘has she told you?’ he asks. ‘No’ replies Paul, ‘she’s probably forgotten that’s all, remember when she.....’ ‘Nar’ says the vicar, quickly checking where his wristwatch would be, if he hadn’t sold it.
Tuesday, 7 January 2020
Paul’s enjoyed having Skinner & T’witch around. Steve Skinner’s taught Paul the ‘F’ chord on the guitar, the one he couldn’t quite master previously. Now they’re busy planning a grand finale for their joint shows in Halifax and Stockport. Meanwhile, at the tarot reading for Pixie Lott, the show is underway and Madame Sandra’s skilfully convincing her client, her interpretation of these medieval playing cards is a plausible way of predicting the future. However, the girls almost leap from their skins when the small caravan becomes alive with ghostly voices and laments. The voices claim to come from the spirit world and solemnly call for Pixie to take back Ed Sheeran as her lover. The first spirit is closely followed by a competitor, who recommends that Pixie should have at least a one night stand with the local vicar, sharpish too, because he’s not getting any younger. It doesn’t take Gaynor long to establish Sheeran and the vicar are under the van, shouting through the rusted sections of its floor panel. With a cry of ‘Achtung!!! Below!!!’ she flushes the leaky chemical toilet, seemingly returning the voices to the spirit world, amid a volley of expletives and groans. ‘Madame Sandra!’ shouts the vicar covered in the contents of the chemical toilet, ‘what does my future hold?’ ‘A hot bath with a strong carbolic soap’ replies Sandra, holding her nose.
Wednesday, 27 November 2019
You’ll recall Skinner & T’witch have arrived in the village and Gaynor’s escorting a mega excited Pixie Lott to a tarot reading with Madame Sandra T’witch. When the girls arrive at Paul’s house, Sandra’s in the middle of the street, squaring up to old Mrs Dixon the fishmonger. Dixo’s peed off because Sandra’s battered caravan is blocking the rear entrance to the shop, ‘I don’t care if you put a curse on me, you stinky old witch’ yells old Mrs Dixon, ‘I’ll stick your clothes pegs up your arse, if you don’t shift that wreck’ and off she scuttles to find reinforcements. ‘Sandra!!!’ shouts Gaynor from the end of the street, killing herself laughing because just for once, it’s not her that’s causing ‘a scene’. Fifteen minutes later, the introductions are made and the three ladies are sat round the table of the tiny caravan. Outside the sound of Skinner’s Spanish guitar fills the air, whilst an envious Ed Sheeran watches on for tips on tuning. ‘Choose three cards darling’ croons Sandra to Pixie, spreading the Tarot deck face down across the table. ‘Oh you’re such a beautiful girl, isn’t she Gaynor?’ Sandra glances across the table and Gaynor nods back whilst opening three bottles of blue WKD and lighting the same number Park Drive. ‘Remember sweetheart’ Sandra says reassuringly, taking a cigarette from Gaynor, ‘If you choose the death card, it can mean a new beginning for you, so don’t worry if that’s amongst them, my love.’ Pixie hands her cards to Sandra and giddily laughs to Gaynor, ‘Shit like init, I’ve not been this nervous in like forever init.’ Sandra slowly turns each card and places them on the formica table top. ‘WAIT!’ shouts Sandra suddenly, ‘who is that man!!’ she points behind them. Gaynor and Pixie spin round to see the local vicar with his nose pressed up against the caravan window. ‘It’s only the vicar’ says Gaynor, ‘he can smell a fag from miles away.’ She hands him a fag and tells him to do one. ‘Right’ says Sandra.
Monday, 28 October 2019
It’s early Saturday evening, Gaynor and Pixie Lott are propping up the bar at the Dog & Gun, planning a big night out culminating at ‘Snoggers’ nightclub. Enter Paul from the saloon bar, keen to share his news, ‘Gaynor, Gaynor! Sandra and Steve are coming to stay and play some gigs with us!’ he says excitingly. ‘Not bleeding Skinner & T’witch!’ scowls Gaynor wearily. ‘They aren’t bringing that bloody stinky caravan are they? Last time they were here,they stunk the street out with that awful chemical toilet.’ In response to Pixie’s questioning look, Gaynor, lighting a Park Drive explains. ‘They’re a right pair of old hippies that Paul’s known since 1066! Sandra, or ‘Madame Sandra’ as she likes to be called’ adopting her plummiest tones, ‘acts like she’s of Royal descent or something. Really she’s just a clapped out old fortune teller and spiritualist who uses Tarot cards!’ ‘No way like init’ exclaims Pixie excitedly. ‘Yeh’ continues Gaynor, ‘and Steve, god bless him, I don’t how or why he puts up with her? ‘Steve’s a great songwriter,’ adds Paul for Pixie’s sake. ‘Yeh! He’s miles better than you’ cackles Gaynor hurtfully. ‘C’mon Gaynor init’ says Pixie vividly, ‘I wanna have my fortune like told by stuck up Madame Sandra init,’ her eyes are wild with the romance of tall dark strangers and good luck, just out of sight, over the horizon. ‘Suppose so,’ says Gaynor, ‘it’s a load of old bollocks’ and she pulls heavily on her cigarette, ‘but she does put on a good show, Mike!’ she hollers across the bar, ‘ten, no a dozen blue WKD’s to go and thirty Park Drive.’ ‘Taking it easy tonight Gaynor?’ laughs Mike.
Tuesday, 17 September 2019
During those first cold weeks of Autumn, Paul and JK Rowling become friends. They meet in the Dog & Gun regularly and chat about their love of books and music and there’s never enough time. Gaynor keeps a watchful eye out and if she’s not too drunk by the time Paul gets home to make her tea, she’ll scold him with warnings not to tell her too much! ‘If you’re not careful, Daniel bloody Radcliffe will be acting out your life story as an eleven year old wizard’ she cautions, lighting a Park Drive. The local vicar feels he’s missed his chance with Joanne. He initially thought he’d scored, she complimented the fragrance of his High Karate and seemed delighted with his story of mixing cocktails using leftover aftershaves. However, he thought she was too quick to decline his offer to mix up a Long Island Iced Tea using Paco Rabanne. She seemed keen to get away and speak to gatecrashers old Mrs Dixon the fishmonger and her on / off titbit, Jack the coal man. ‘’Paco’ only makes you cough a little,’ the vicar called after her reassuringly. Gaynor and Joanne have said little to each other since being thrown together again, perhaps they’re both keen to let the past lie in it’s dusty grave. However whenever’s Paul’s out of earshot, Gaynor will mimic him ‘Joanne said this, Joanne said that’ to Pixie Lott and roll her eyes.
Tuesday, 27 August 2019
Ed Sheeran and his gangland associate LJ, are hanging out in the office at Ed’s tanning shop, ‘Tanfastic’. LJ says ‘Y’know Boss, I reckon there’s nobody like I can’t batter in the village innit,’ ‘Really?’ replies Sheeran putting down his paperback with interest, ‘What about Jack the coal man? He’s a psycho with a couple of ‘Don Revie’s’ inside him and he did batter us BOTH at Jet Wash Jim’s the other week,’ he recalls. ‘He DID have like help though innit’ replies LJ, ‘If it was one on one, I’d just get him like this’ he demonstrates his moves for Ed. ‘Interesting’ sniggers Ed, ‘what about Big Dave the Blacksmith? He soon pinned you down at church when you wanted to batter the big mouthed vicar.’ ‘Took me by surprise innit, both him and Terry the Hod Carrier are big blokes, but they’re outta shape like. I’d would like kill them both otherwise innit’ he karate chops the desk several times. ‘Ok then’ says Ed, ‘so you reckon you can batter Gaynor?’ ‘Innit’ replies LJ. ‘I’m sorry?’ questions Ed, ‘does ‘innit’ mean yes or no? I can call Gaynor now to see if she fancies a scrap?’ ‘Innit’ says LJ again, unable to make eye contact with Ed.
Wednesday, 21 August 2019
Paul’s still wetting the bed over the excitement of the last few weeks. First, he found out Harry Potter author, JK Rowling’s moving to his street! Second, she’s only invited him and his friends to lunch! The local vicar is quickly reading the Potter novels, despite previously condemning them and their pagan themes. Forever in pursuant of a meal ticket, he’s confessed to Gaynor, that if Joanne makes a lunge at him when she’s tanked up, that he won’t knock her back, despite her being a little longer in the tooth than his usual type. ‘I’m sure she’ll be desperate to get a man of your calibre in the sack’ encourages Gaynor, looking forward to the potential car crash this luncheon may promise. Over at the Rowling mansion, Joanne’s in Death Eater mode, placing several secret listening devices around the room,so she doesn’t miss any of the fantastic tales her guests may divulge during their stay. Gaynor already knows Joanne of old and what a story stealing scumbag she can be. So in cahoots with Pixie Lott, she’s prepared several wacky storylines, cobbled together ‘Just to have a bit of fun with the plagiarising old mare,’ Gaynor smiles, passing Pixie a Park Drive. At that point the vicar walks in wearing so much High Karate it causes the girls to cough. ‘Is it too much?’ asks the vicar. ‘Actually like’ reflects Pixie for a moment, ‘I thought you’d already drunk all your aftershave?’
Wednesday, 17 July 2019
It must be a month later when JK Rowling settles in her new home. The neighbours seem lovely, there’s Clive and Debbie Superkings next door and in the little shabby house at the end of the street, the fat one armed bloke who wears a toupee, Pete or Paul something, who takes in lodgers. Things take an interesting turn however, when Joanne clocks the unmistakable gait of her old roomie Gaynor, still strutting down the street like bloody Beyoncé Knowles. Gaynor’s accompanied by a tall blonde girl who could be Pixie Lott and trailing behind them are a tatty drunken vicar and Ed Sheeran??? Yes it’s Ed bloody Sheeran!! For the first time in months, Joanne is genuinely excited. Gaynor was always ‘writers gold’ in the old days. If Joanne ever hit writers block, it was the ‘real life adventures of Gaynor’ that help finish the chapter. Clearly, if Gaynor’s now hanging with such noted celebrities, her adventures must be twice as exciting than those in the past. I bet she’s got a least a mini series of stories to tell me she smirks to her clever self. She must arrange a soirée pronto she thinks, a luncheon perhaps so she can get rid of everyone early and then get to work producing her next best seller. She cackles to herself, just like Lord Voldemort.