It's been a while folks.....

Saluataions all,

My heartfelt apologies for lack of posts recently friends but all will be revealed very soon - suffice to say I've been to fookin' hell and back!!!!

In the meantime VOTE LABOUR!!!!

Mental health issues? not fookin funny......

Hello everyone,

This week is "Barrow mental health week" so in keeping with the topical air of mild insanity I thought it appropriate to acknowledge the occasion with this revealing and still quite painful newspiece from the annals of the Sheepshanks vaults, read on folks and share the solemn and thankfully distant memory of my brief flirtation with mental health problems......

The following news story was published in the Barrow based local newspaper "The North West evening mail" back in July 2004:-

"A spokesman for the Barrow in Furness health trust this morning confirmed that local ballroom entertainer Lester Sheepshanks (CBE) was briefly treated at the delapidated, crumbling St.Augustines hospital sometime during the last few days. 'Sheepsy' (73) was admitted late Thursday evening after appearing to collapse at a press conference earlier in the day at the Four Seasons Tavern!!

Hospital spokesman Shackleton Dreyfuss said that Mr.Sheepshanks arrived accompanied by his manager Maurice Shoteley sometime around 11.30pm in a rather agitated, confused mood, after waiting in casualty for barely 7 minutes the veteran dancer demanded to be seen by a top 'White British born' doctor before mounting the reception desk and embarking on a rather clumsy and poorly executed Pasa-doble routine' - after being coaxed down by anxious hospital staff Sheepsy conducted a 3 minute rant that included the following incoherent statements - 'Mater oh why oh why did you leave me!?!?', 'Don't you fookin' know who I am? I'm Lester chuffin' Sheepshanks you bastids!?!?' and 'Lockett the fookin bastid it's all his doing!!!'

Mr.Sheepshanks was eventually examined by a physciatric doctor who confirmed that the one time British no 1 ballroom dancer was indeed suffering from huge mental and physical stress and after administering a course of sedatives recommended that old Sheepsy should stay in overnight to be closely monitered.

Sometime around 3.55am and totally against the hospitals wishes Mr.Sheepshanks discharged himself and after calling his close friend and confidante and esteemed local master pork butcher Mr.Selwyn Corbett left by taxi for his five bedroomed palatial luxury mock tudor home in South Barrow, eye witnesses say Sheepsy left the hospital building without his trousers and with what appeared to be a large fish in his left jacket pocket (possibly a turbot) whilst giggling nervously, salivating and occasionally slipping into a rather shambolic half baked foxtrot move!!!

It is believed that the veteran fading dancer spent Friday night at his Barrow home before leaving by car on Saturday morning to catch a flight to Spain where he has a luxury holiday home in a first class private holiday complex inhabitated by a string of violent former British criminals and top Z-list celeb's including Jim Bowen, 70's west country poet Pam Eyres and former Mr and Mrs host Derek Batey......'

Fookin hell folks!! it's really brought it all back to me you know, but with the right care and support my year of twisted pure hell thankfully ended soon after but now I really can empathise with the mentally retarded. These days when I even pass old Clive (pictured above) in Barrow precint with his ill fitting urine stained, crusty suit and his infamous drunken cries of "bastids, bastids where all fookin' bastids!!!" I no longer pass by giggling uncontrollably under my breath, nor do I chuckle cruelly at his borderline personality disorder no sir I offer him a fiver and some friendly advice before I head off back to my luxury 5 bedroom mini-mansion!!!! chuffin' ell folks I've truly been lucky and I honestly believe that without the best Harley street treatment money could buy I now too would be sat alongside poor old Clive in Barrow town centre in one of Mater's old ballroom gowns sitting in my own urine chewing on a half eaten prime Corbetts sausauge roll!!!

Till next time poeple please spare a thought for the unfortunate mentally ill amongst us........

Thanks,

Lester

Poor old Arlene and more fond memories from the annals of Sheepsy!!

How do minions!

Firstly I have to say that I was totally bewildered this week to discover that first rate dance choreographer the alluringly bewitching Arlene Phillips has been dropped from the next series of the BBC's tacky ballroom show "Strictly..." - what a fookin' travesty and no mistake! apart from being a fine panelist and dance expert old Arlene is also a top notch bit of "mature" crumpet too and will be sorely missed by many, especially men of a certain age and persuasion like my good self!! Arlene you have been a fookin' treasure and fine servant to the world of dance choerography - I fookin' salute you yer proud beauty!

Interesting though to see that the simpering old twot Len kept his job - enough said! I'm not being bitter but as I was just saying to my cheeky red setter puppy Jimbo an hour ago over a few pickled pigs trotter's - "You have to move on Jimbo old son, you'll never hear old Sheepsy bearing a grudge...." - The BBC eh!?!? what a bunch of fookin' bastids.......

Well folks my autobiography is still selling by the dozens and to celebrate reaching the 1000 copies sold (since 2003!!) mark I am delighted to publish the following excerpt from the said bestseller!!

Coming up are some intriguing revelations on the awful 1985 red-setter allegations!:-

"It all began back in May 1985 when I was booked by my loyal agent and manager Maurice Shoteley to open a new wing in the Barrow in Furness dogs home, the said building was a first rate, start of the art luxury outhouse for the purpose of exterminating malingering and sickly, work-shy dogs...anyway after the grand red ribbon ceremony had ended and I had concluded my amusing speech I proceeded to have a leisurely wander around the premises when suddenly I heard a panicked cry of 'Look out, run away red setter!!' - I quickly looked behind me and there was a lovely, glossy haired red setter wagging his tail and smiling at me regally! as a treat I tickled his belly and ruffled his head but unfortunately this made the cheeky canine scamp rather excited and as he leapt up to lick my face I was knocked off balance and sent flying back, in the process catching my beige Farah's on a precarious rusty hook attached to a gate. 'Fook!' I thought as I inspected the damage to my £30.00 slacks, unknown to me in the excitement the pesky setter had also snagged and loosened my belt with his teeth forcing my sand coloured trousers to slowly fall to the ground!!! this made the dog even more agitated and upset so in a flash of inspiration I bent down and innocently straddled him and began to comfort the lovely lad. I accept looking back at the scene that it may have looked a bit suspect but I was honestly just consoling the parentless setter and in no way was I carrying out any form of foul, bestial, twisted canine shennanigans!!

After the fuss had died down I tragically learned that the cheeky setter was named Toby and he was due to face the lethal injection later that same day due to no one wanting the unlucky furry lad, in a moment of overwhelming generosity I decided to adopt him my self and give him a home at my palatial mock tudor 5 bedroom mini mansion in the wealthy area of Barrow!! sadly by this time a pesky chuffin' hack from a downmarket tabloid had cruelly snapped the offending scene and had already begun a campaign of slander and harrasment against me that would drag on for 18 painful months until my tarnished name was finally cleared.......even to this day I am still haunted by the title of the 'Beast of Barrow' but thankfully justice was done and Toby and myself enjoyed many glorious years of friendship and companionship, right up until his callous and pointless murder back in 2004........"

Keep well ballroom lovers!

Always yours Les....xxx

The Filth And The Fookin' Fury!!!!

This is really no time for pleasantries friends as I'm chuffin' fuming!! I've been had folks - honestly!

It all began one day last week when I recieved a rather dubious brown paper parcel in the post.....on opening the package I thought I was going to have a fookin' stroke, I swear I nearly put my silk slippered dancing foot right through my brand new £1000 44" HD ready flat screen television! inside was a "DVD", I can hardly bring myself to repeat the title again but here goes........this filth was called "Maude Does Scarborough!!" what a palaver!

It appears that my agent and manager Maurice Shoteley when updating my blog profile for me recently "clumsily" listed one of my favourite DVD's as the above mentioned title rather than the much more innocent "Maude Bristows Scarborough Ballroom Master Class" - the useless fooker'!! anyway it seems that the films twisted creators believed that I was interested in their twisted world of filth!! Now I've known Maude for over 35 years and she is one of the most repected ballroom tutors in the business and is in no way connected the above dubious XXX rated abomination.....no Sir Maude's DVD is a 2 and a half hour introduction to ballroom, a harmless and educational tribute to the medium and it's many golden treasures, whereas as far as I can tell the other DVD certainly isn't!!

For your own protection comrades (and to ensure that you don't make the same foolish mistake that I, erm....sorry MAURICE made!) here is the synopsis on the obscene disc according to the box - I have obviously had to censure some words and vile phrases for your own sakes.

"HARD CHOICE PRODUCTIONS PRESENTS HARD GERIATRIC S*X ACTION JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE IT! - JOIN 78 YEAR OLD MAUDE AS SHE F***S HERE WAY THROUH SOME OF SCARBOROUGHS HOTTEST YOUNG STUDS! - YES IT'S NO HOLDS BARRED XXX ACTION AS THE INSATIABLE AND VASTLY EXPERIENCED GRANDMOTHER OF 8 ENJOYS *NAL/DP/GANG BANG AND GIRL ON GIRL ACTION IN THE HOT BRITISH SEASIDE RESORT!

Fook me folks I apologise once again for the above filth, I tell you honestly I'm heaving just thinking about it but I thought it only fair of me to warn you about the offensive nature of the said film, I shall be passing the disc onto my lawyer Uttoxeter Arbroath to ensure that the films makers can make a full and very public apology to myself....but in the meantime I shall study the foul DVD (for research purposes) a few more times to ensure that this kind of deprivating oversight never happens again!

To be fair though folks for a 78 year old Maude certainly makes a good fist of things, erm pardon the pun and indeed knows a few tricks and is quite an agile performer for her advancing years so in the interests of fair play and freedom of speech I say "Good on yer Maude yer game old girl - your a credit to the world of hardcore porn you proud old beauty!!!!"

Meet Jimbo!!

Greetings folks!

I'd like you to meet Jimbo!! yes after 4 years of dog related mourning I have finally decided to move on and let another red setter into my life - I'll never forget Toby (nor Bingo before him!) but I feel it's time for some closure so on Saturday I popped down to the Barrow dogs home and plucked lucky Jimbo from a life of regular beatings, heartless neglect and abject misery!! after a generous £40 donation was handed over I was given Jimbo's paperwork and off we set for home!

Old Maurice wasn't too happy about the "faecal deposit" that old Jimbo left on the back of the Bentley but the cheeky young lad was a bit excited so I gamely forgave him later on as we all sat in my spacious backgarden basking in the warm sun, Jimbo chose a nice ice-cool bowl of water and a tasty pork bone whilst Maurice and I savoured a crisp gin and tonic and a nice Spam, lettuce and piccalilli bap!!!!

He really is a joy folks and he is already settling into the routine at Sheepsy heights.....although the poor lad did get a bit of a fright on Monday morning as he gambled cheekily into Mater's shrine to find me sobbing uncontrollably on her plastic covered pillow's dressed in one of her shimmering championship winning ballroom gowns!! mind you they were tears of pure joy as I thought of Mater sat up in heaven next to ol' Toby and Bingo enjoying a premium sausage roll and a large vodka and Tonic as her silvery lard encrusted hair gently quivered in the celestial, heavenly breeze! fook me she would be so happy to see me finally moving on with life!!

Until next time friends, keep the glorious medium of ballroom alive!!!

More Sheepsy memories and the curse of fookin' Swine Flu!!!

Hi Ballroom friends,

Firstly it's really nice to be back home after a wonderful (but tiring!) 3 weeks on the road. All in all the show was a huge hit but there's nothing quite like coming back to one's own warm, comfy and luxurious 5 bedroom mock Tudor mini-mansion....tentative plans are being hatched to take the show back out on the road before Xmas such was the warm reception I recieved.

Sadly though as ever the fickle hand of fate was waiting for ol' Sheepsy in the twisted, pork related form of bastid Swine flu! - my first thought was "Fook me! the bureaucratic health official rotter's had better not ban all pork consumption!!" - but thankfully eating Pork is safe although chuffin' trips to Mexico aren't!! seriously though folks innocent people have died so we must all be vigilant, who'd have thought that the humble pig could be responsible for so much terror and widespread panic?

Anyway as a treat in these times of reccesion related misery I thought I'd treat you to another revealingly fascinating excerpt from my recent autobiography, so pull up an easy chair and settle down with a nice hot mug of tea and a few "Uncle Les's battered pork boasters" sandwiched between a couple of floury baps!! The following chapter focuses on the sometimes violent and strained relationship with my late father Whitworth, read on folks and enjoy!!!

"Back in 1997 I attempted one last time to heal the bitter rift between Pater and myself, slowly pulling up in my Bentley outside the run down, delapidated 'Happy Meadows' nursing home a lump came to my throat as I tried to remember happier memories of my frail dieing father - small loving gestures or maybe an affectionate moment of joy.....but I fookin' couldn't! who was I kidding my father was a violent, malingering alcoholic with the intellectual capacity of a mentally unstable Jack Russell, a man who made life sheer misery for Mater', myself and my brothers and sisters....We hadn't spoken since 1963 but as the old buzzard was dieing I resolved to be the better man and finally seek some form of dance related closure.

I remember one day I must have been about 11 or 12 and dear old silvery haired Mater' had just nipped out to the butchers to purchase a few cheap cuts of pork for our weekly Wednesday night 'Pork casserole'...I think I was sat at the kitchen table sticking a picture of legendary ballroom champion Arthur 'Squeaky' Tichdale into my scrapbook when all of a sudden the front door crashed open and in staggered my father - a half eaten pork pie in one hand and his favourite smoking pipe in the other 'Yer f-f-f-f-fookin' little t-t-twisted foookin' b-b-bastid, come ere son!!' he stammered drunkenly - nervously I approached Pater as he motioned to me to sit down next to him on the second hand chaise-lounge.

'Son l-l-listen son, I k-k-know you and m-me have had our differences b-b-but listen Lester lad yer me b-best mate really' he stuttered inebriated...'You'll always be m-m-my son, whatever you choose t-t-to do with your life b-b-but if yer ever humiliate this family as a f-f-fookin' twisted ballroom b-b-astid dancer I'll f-f-f-fookin' CHOP YOUR FEET OFF!!!!!!!' he screeched as he threw me against the wall before slowly unzipping his trousers and proceeding to urinate on my treasured silken ballroom galoshe's which were proudly sat by the fire!! - as the acridly pungent urine sprayed copioulsy onto my blessed dance slippers I could feel the anger and heartbreak rising up through my feet of flames and into my spindly dancing legs as I ran from the house out down to the nearby canal where I threw myself onto the grass sobbing uncontrollably. Honestly the last time I felt that low again was of course when Mater' was taken from me and also back in 1992 when I lost my long running Veterans Mens Championship winning run (4 successive years!) to that right royal fooker Lockett of all people!!!

The mental (and physical) scars still linger to this day and I only need to think of Father and the old feelings of hatred and bitterness return.

Gingerley entering the acid smelling TV room of the nursing home I saw Father sat in the corner dressed in a tartan dressing gown (and oddly pink fluffy carpet slippers!) gazing vacantly out through the window with saliva dribbling down his chin, 'Your son is here to see you Whitworth' said the Nurse to Pater. 'Son?!? Son?? what you mean my favourite son Minton!?!' asked Father beseechingly, 'Er, no it's me Lester, Pater'' I softly whispered - quite without a word or expression of emotion the old twot span round and stared at me for what felt like an age before spitting with contempt 'Get out fookin' mincin' queer, yer no son of mine!!!!'

I had heard enough and so I fled from the ramshackle rat infested nursing home and danced down the stairs into the back of my Bentley. 'Maurice' I sobbed 'Let's find a first class pork carvery right away and fill our fookin' boots!!!!' and so we did we found a rather fine and reasonably priced establishment just a few miles away, if I remember rightly Maurice opted for six prime pork chops with a huge stack of fat greasy chips, garden peas and battered onion rings whilst I chose the 'all in - all day pork ensemble' eeh it was fookin' majestic I tell you, 4 huge meaty pork loin medallions with a few fat pork and herb sausages, a large smoked gammon steak with pineapple all finished off with some roast potatoes
(basted in prime pork fat!) and garden peas and a large gravy boat filled with a thick slurry of onion and pork matter!!! eeh such lucid pork memories!!"

My autobiography is still available for just £2.99 from most good book retailers or directly signed copies can be ordered from Shoteley entertainments, PO Box 12745, Barrow in Furness.

Until next time folks take things easy!!

Life On The Road, and a porky treat.......

Warm greetings foxtrot friends, first things first I must extend my warmest thanks and heartfelt appreciation for all of you have have turned up in your scores to support me in my "Audience with Lester Sheepshanks" live bonanza over the last week!!!

We kicked off in good old rainy Skegness last Wednesday night and opened to a warm and friendly audience, the audatorium was slightly only half full but I put that down to the current, crippling credit crunch gripping the whole nation rather than any reflection on my loyal fans part.

In hindsight the show has been a blistering success and after a wonderful evening in Preston on Friday the "Preston Evening Post" heralded the show as "huge hit!!" and a "must see experience for all lovers of ballroom...."

With a mere two weeks on the road left I must admit folks that I have been missing my home comforts somewhat, although we have stayed in some rather comfy, homely 3 star establishments on the road I can't wait to get back to the groaning pork-packed larder in my 5 bedroom mock tudor manison in Barrow to spend some quality reflective time basking with dear old late Mater' in the regal sanctuary of her shrine!! yes we have devoured some first rate pork-based meals on our travels (especially the full English breakfast at the "Regency Guesthouse" in Morecambe - thanks again Rita yer game old beauty!!) but nothing beats a trip down to my favourite restaraunt "The Wexberry Crest" in Barrow in Furness for a full £20 all in pork carvery!!!! (including the finest roast pork this side of the North West of England, delicious apple sauce, delectable prime pork sausages, etc, etc! - you simply must try it!!

Finally folks as I mentioned above the pesky credit crunch is even affecting ol' Les too you know, why only last month on my monthly whistlestop trip down to London to the Harrods meat section I had to forego my usual £24.00 organic hand reared "Cheswick Farm" prime pigs trotters for Harrods own brand (at a mere £7.00 a trotter I tell you!!!)

Honsestly folks my heart goes out to you all poor fookers' out there and so I generously extend the kindly withered porky hand of Sheepsy by offering a luxury "Pork hamper" courtesy of Corbetts Master pork butchers of Barrow to the lucky person who answers this question....

In 1989 I underwent my first very painful (but also memorable) bout of emergency hemorrhoid surgery for my notorious troublesome grapes, where did I spend the following 2 weeks recouperating?

A - Blackpool
B - Skegness
C - The Costa Del Sol
D - Eastbourne

The first correct answer pulled out of my "Lucky" tombola snaffles the hamper!

Good luck dance lovers and till next time abide by the sacred laws of Ballroom!!!!!!!!!