Poem: The Doggelganger.

The Doggelganger.

(A man’s best friend is his doggelganger)


People always say you’ll find

That owners and their pets,

Grow more alike with passing years

You see it at the vets.


My butcher has a Boxer dog,

They share a fierce mien,

My uncle and his Corgi are

A pair of portly men.


My Granny loves her Poodle pet,

Both tightly permed and bustled,

And big lads with Rottweiler dogs

Are similarly muscled.



X Factor final. Who goes today. 11th October.

Greetings Peeps.


Who will leave tonight in the first public vote?


I guess if Cheryl and Danni had the power it would definitely be Kandy Rain, the ex-pole dancers.

But as it is not up to them it will be interesting.

It’s on now so I must be off to watch it.



Louie was not in the studio tonight, because Steven Gateley, from Boyzone died last night.

He died suddenly on Majorca at only 33.

He was on holiday there with his partner Andy Cowles.

The cause of death is as yet unknown.


Alexandra Burke, last years winner, performed her newest song.

It was a fine performance.


Then we had an apology from Danni Minogue, for what she said to Danyl last night.

So that’s alright then!


Robbie Williams was back and also gave a fine performance, with all his usual showmanship.

Weird song though.


Then we had the results of the public vote.

First we were told that John and Edward were safe.

Simon’s face was a picture.  It would be his worst nightmare if they won.

Almost makes you want them too!


The last two remaining were Rachel and Kandy Rain.

Rachel sang in tune tonight.  Much better than last night.


So who went.

Cheryl and Danni voted for Kandy Rain to go.

Simon voted for Rachel to go.

It was obvious that Louie would have voted for his own group, so it went back to the public vote and who received the lowest number.


Kandy Rain are out.


Next week the guest is Whitney Houston, and Cheryl will perform her new solo record.


Be there or be square!




Previous X Factor blogs

Future X Factor links.

Adult Poem: So Fuck You.

so fuck you


i looked in your handbag

and what did i find

but secrets being kept

about your state of mind

you swore we were tight

it was all in my head

but the texts on your phone

say what you never said




X Factor Results Plus Links To Video.10th October.

Hey there,


Well, the real contest has begun tonight, with twelve acts all hoping that they will not fall at the first hurdle.  The fascination being that one of them will go, but which one will it be?

This time I have given you links to U Tube so that you can access the acts immediately.

So many thanks to U Tube for providing such a marvellous resource for us all to enjoy.

I absolutely love U Tube!


First off was Rachel Adedeji.

She opened the show with a Robbie Williams classic, ‘Let Me Entertain You’.

Well, for me, she didn’t.


Second act onstage was Kandy Rain.

At least I liked the outfits.

The reactions of Danni and Cheryl, to the group, were over the top.

They both made pointed comments that if the girls want to be known as singers then they should not continue dressing as pole dancers.

The girls wore more clothes onstage than I have seen Girls Aloud prancing about in, so the words Kettle, Pot and Black come to mind.

I liked their outfits too!


Third was the very likable Olly Murs.

I really like Olly and I think that he could definitely make it to the finish.

He needs to relax, go with the flow and be totally cool again.

I love his moves too.


Ricky Loney was up next.

He can sing but I did not like either the song or the performance.

His outfit was awful.  He looked like Laurence Olivier playing Archie Rice in The Entertainer.

Why don’t they try to help him look young and cool.


Fifth was Stacey Solomon.

I did not really like this performance, but she could be good.


Then we had Miss Frank.

They are improving.


Jamie Archer next.

Very good, but so far, I liked him best singing the Kings of Loen song, ‘Sex On Fire’.

He could definitely win


Eighth was LLoyd Daniels.

He is remarkably self possessed for his age .

A very impressive performance, what with all the dancers and the mist.

He’s a pretty little thing too!


Lucie Jones was up next.

Unfortunately the song was too big for her.


John and Edward.

They were very entertaining.

I bet they could make a living as models, if they are tall enough!


Joe McElderry.

He was back on form tonight.  He could also win.

It was a much more sensitive performance from him this time.

He has a huge amount of promise, and a wonderful smile.

The only cautionary thing I would say is that he should not smile when the content of the song does not warrant it.

There is nothing wrong with being suitably moody!


Danyl Johnson was last up.

His song was superbly sung.

It was a woman’s song, ‘I’m Gonna Make You Love Me’.  Some of the judges were scathing about Simon’s choice before the performance, but it was an inspired one

He is definitely capable of winning if he can keep connecting with his audience.

.I have to say that Danni Minogue’s comment was totally out-of-order in my opinion.

Instead of just sticking to his singing, she really upset  Danyl by more or less asking if he was gay.

I do not think it was the time or place to address a performer’s sexual orientation.

Whether he is gay or not does not affect his singing abilities.

She deserves a good smack.


See you tomorrow,


Previous X Factor blogs

Link to Sunday 11th October show

Poem: Poor Johnny-No-Stars. Adult Content.

poor johnny-no-stars


poor johnny-no-stars

works in the burger bars

wishes one girl in the place

would gladly sit upon his face

although his wants are very few

his little wish will not come true




This phrase ‘johnny-no-stars’ was one I came across when I found a website called London Slang.  It amused me and stimulated me two write two poems using London slang.

If you would like to visit the site then you can follow this link.

This is the link to the other poem: London Boy.

Poem: London Boys. Adult Content.

London Boy.


She was an aeroplane blond

If you know what I mean,

Wiv an aeroplane skirt,

Sex on legs, from a dream.

So I sank a few Britneys

An asked what she charged,

But she kicked-in me Jackson’s

For giving it large.



This is another poem that I enjoyed writing after reading a site that gives examples of London slang.

It was a very funny read for me.

I think that slang, like rap, is a form of modern poetry.  One I enjoy greatly.

If you are not burdened with too much of a W.I. disposition then you might like to follow the link and read it yourself as you will probably need the translations.

Link to the previous poem: Johnny-no-stars.

The Milky Bar Kid.

Hello, hello, hello,


I know what you are thinking.

Why do I say that three times, when just once, would do fine.

What am I adding to the greeting by saying it that way.

It is just overkill…and general showing off.


Well, words are free, and I am feeling generous!

So come on, lighten up, it is Saturday.


I do not know why I feel in such a good mood today, but I do, and that’s good.

It probably means that the day will go along wonderfully, just because my mood is so up, up, up.


Don’t you agree with me?

If I was in a low mood then I would notice every less than excellent thing and put a negative slant on it.

I have great faith in the ability of us humans, to see what we want and expect to see, and therefore ignore all contrary auditory, sensory or commonsense input totally.


My father was very capable of doing that,  and I can remember one particular instance, right off the top of my head.


I was in my teens, and one day, when I was alone in the house, I got a long spelk of wood buried in my finger, but which I eventually managed to pull out with a pair of tweezers.

I was a bit worried about it though, because I had just been reading that, if you got a deep puncture wound, and it did not bleed, then you could get Tetanus from it because the wound would not get washed out.

It therefore seemed sensible to fill up a pint glass with water and pour in a lot of Dettol disinfectant, before putting my fingers in, and hopefully letting the disinfectant permeate the wound, and hopefully that would be enough stop me dying a horrible death from an untreatable disease.


As you have probably gathered by now, I am blessed with far too much imagination for my own comfort.


Earlier that day, I had had a small altercation with my father, because when he went to get a cup of tea at breakfast time there had been no milk left in the bottle.

He said that I had been greedy and drunk all the milk so that there was none left for his cuo of tea.

I argued that I had not done it, which was the truth, but because I loved a drink of milk he did not believe me.


My father had finally gone off to work feeling very annoyed with me , and I was left feeling very badly done to in turn, but I soon forgot all about the whole thing and was looking forward to Big H coming to pick me up, so that we could go out and party.


Once I had stood in the kitchen for ages, holding my fingers in the disinfectant, I went into the bathroon to wash my hands and put on an Elastoplast band aid, if the wound looked OK.

I had left the glass on the bench, in case I needed to give it another soak .


I don’t know if you have ever used Dettol.  It is a transparent, orangey coloured liquid, but when you pour it into water it all goes very, very milky looking.


When I eventually walked back into the kitchen, my father was standing there, looking at me.  He had the pint of Dettol water clasped in his hand,

I looked at him, a bit confused.

“Ha Ha”, he said to me, “I think that I win this one!”

Totally bemused, I watched him quickly lift up the glass and swiftly swig down the whole of the contents as if it was beer, right down  to the last drop, before thumping it  back down, empty, onto the bench top.

“So how do you like that then” he said triumphantly, before his face crumpled into an expression of total and complete horror.

He staggered about, clutching his throat, before disappearing off into the bathroom at great speed, and staying in there for ages.


Oh god, it was hilarious.

I absolutely wet myself laughing, I was in hysterics, and every time I tried to  stop, I kept seeing his face again, and off it all started again.


He had been so determined to drink my milk, that he totally disregarded the smell, the cloudiness, and the faint pink colour down towards the bottom of the glass.


It was months before he was able to see the funny side.


Fun days.

Have a fun day yourself, but stick to your own drinks ‘cos it is safer that way.




In case you are wondering, spelk is a Geordie term for a splinter of wood.


Adult Poem: Just Leave It Out.

just leave it out


you’re sneaking

round my business

like a second-hand


i’d rather that

you asked me what

you want to bloody





Hello Peeps,

Have you seen this clip of film?

Just in case you have not I am posting it for you.


It is a CCTV film of two aggressive, drunken young men who had just been filmed in a fight outside of a nightclub, with someone dressed as Batman!


They then decided to attack two men that they saw in dressed in drag.


Unfortunately for them, the men that they attack are Daniel Lerwell and James Lilley, who turn out to be cage fighters with the Swansea Predators cage fighting team.

They are on their way to meet their team mates for a night on the town, and wanted to do something a bit different, just for fun.


For those of you interested in fashion I can tell you that Mr Lilley was looking very stylish, in black hot pants, cleverly set off by a funky pink wig, while Mr Lerwell  was looking especially glamorous in a little black dress with stockings and suspenders.


It is not often that retribution arrives so quickly and so thoroughly.





Spiders In My Hair.

Hey Peeps,

Greetings to you all.


Hoping that life is still treating you kindly.

(A timely word to you denizens of The Web who are looking at this post in your office.  The highlighted import when you click on ‘The Animals’ is Very Loud music….which may not be a good idea in that particular environment!)


Have you noticed that big backcombed bed hair seems to be back in again.

Of course it is nothing new to me.

When I was a teenager we used to backcomb our hair till it was a regular rat’s nest and then smooth a comb gently over the top surface to smooth it, before clipping it up in a massive beehive about a foot tall.

Then we would glue on long black eyelashes and apply lashings of pale pink lipstick, sometimes even drawing on a black beauty spot with an eyebrow pencil too.

We looked way cool!


There is a very strange story of a certain brash and noisy young lady, who worked in a  factory next to the Jarrow shipbuilding company that Big H worked for, which was called called Hawthorn Leslies.

Big H’s firm was mostly fit young men, so they would all play football every lunchtime, against some huge burly blokes, who worked at another factory called Samsonite Resistors.

It must have been funny to see, because all of the Hawthorn Leslie guys would be dressed in Italian trousers, suede desert boots, and shirts that were either collarless or with pencil thin ties, while the other guys were in their blue boiler suits, some with the tops tied around their waists to showcase their huge musculature, and big safety boots.


Such a gathering of males proved very enticing to the girls in the Patons and Baldwins factory, which, strangely enough, had a big beehive painted on their signboard.

Every lunchtime their doors would burst open and out these young ladies would pour.

They would all be wearing little mini skirts, tight tops and little checkered pinnies, their hair teased up into big, lacquered beehives.

They would visit a little shop nearby to buy mars bars, cigarettes, newspapers and food, usually in giggling groups of three.


They would then stand and talk to the footballers, as the guys stood around waiting, in their various positions on their makeshift pitch.

One little blonde girl would always chat up Big H, accompanied by her noisy brunette pal, who had the biggest beehive of all.

It was of magnificent proportions indeed.

Apparently, she had not combed combed or washed it at all, since she started working at the factory.  She would just smooth it over in the mornings and apply tons of lacquer spray, so that it was as hard as a rock


One day only the blonde haired girl appeared, so Big H asked her where her friend was.

He was informed that she had terrible pain in her head, so she had gone to visit her doctor because she could not bear it any longer.


The result was, that the doctor had needed to cut into her beehive, in order to look at the painful area that she was complaining about.

He found that the huge structure was an empty shell, full of insects, that had eaten off all of the hair on the top of her head, along with the top layers of skin,  leaving it all raw and bloody, because all these insects were living, breeding, dying and feeding there.

Her hair had to be removed, and her skin treated..


When she returned to her factory the next day, after her shocking experience, she was a changed and very chastened girl…. who was at least a foot smaller!

And, she was wearing a headscarf, which was needed to cover her little, round, newly bald head.



My friend Valerie and I were always going out to clubs in those days and life was good.


One of our favourite places was the Club A GoGo in Newcastle.

We used to queue to get in for ages and when you did the doormen would stamp your hand with indelible ink so that you could go outside for a while.


I think that the band I enjoyed most in those days was The Animals, with Eric Burdon singing in his gravelly rough way.

The House Of The Rising Sun was really brilliant.


It was one one such night that we got more than a little drunk and eventually fell into a taxi and headed for our respective homes.

I got back about extremely late and desperately needed a pee.

Normally I would have avoided that like the plague because we lived in an upstairs flat and there was no indoor toilet.

This meant opening the back door and carefully going down a flight of stairs, in the pitch dark, and then going across the concrete yard to use the toilet,


It was a horrible horrible place .  Even in the daytime you could see big spiders and insects in all of the corners, and on the ceiling, and I was always terrified that they would run on me.  Or that there would be a rat hiding in there.

And god knows what was living behind the toilet because I never dared to look.

In those day, just after the war, we did not even have toilet paper.  We used to tear up a newspaper into squares, then stick a darning needle threaded with twine through one corner, before hanging the loop onto a big nail hammered  into the brick wall.

We wiped our bums on all kinds of famous people in those days!


There was supposed to be a streetlamp in the lane but I can never remember it working even though I was born there…at a very young age!


That night I can remember sitting there feeling really terrible and then chucking up violently all over the floor.  I was as sick as a parrot



The next morning dawned and I opened my bleary eyes …and nearly died of fright.

I was lying on the concrete floor, curled around the toilet pan, with my head squashed into the corner of that horrible little place.

I had obviously been so inebriated, that I had passed out completely, for the remainder of the night.


Horrified, I dashed out of there and went back up into the flat, where I was pleased to find that it was so early that  everyone was still asleep in their beds.

I went into the bathroom and glanced into the mirror, only to see that all of my huge, lacquered, bouffant, beehive hairstyle was covered in dust and spiders webs.

Not only that, it was also pressed into a strange pointy right angled shape that would have fitted exactly into the corner of the toilet, and was well stiffened with vomit.

Oh god, it was cringe making.


I had a bath in such hot water, and scrubbed myself so many times, that I am surprised I did not do myself a lasting injury.


People can tell you not to get drunk and stupid when you are young, but that is in no way as effective as spending a night outside with the spiders is!

I behaved myself for ages after that experience.


Ah, the sweet pleasures of youth.  How I miss them.




PS. On Tyneside we used to call the toilet a’ Netty’… but don’t ask me why.