Orthapaedic shoes, trinkets and other treasures....

Finding myself at a bit of a loose end yesterday afternoon I decided to venture up into my loft to finally clear out some of my massive clutter. Since I retired from competitve dancing in the late 1970's only the most majestic of my awards, trophies and prizes are housed in the living quarters of my wonderfully lavish 5 bedroom mock tudor mini mansion, golden shimmering monuments to my dance prowess adorn the walls and display cabinets of my home. From my earliest certificate for winning the national under 10's ballroom trophy to my final competitive trophy - the 1979 British men's veterans cup from Bournemouth.

But the true treasures and secrets are held in the dark and dusty old loft directly housed above Maters' bedroom. So at about 2.10pm yesterday afternoon just after watching Neighbours and polishing off a rather delicious snack of one of Corbetts prime Balsamic vinegar pickled pig's trotters with a nice potato salad I nervously climbed the ladder up into my Aladdins cave!!

One of the 1st things I instantly saw brought a wistful smile to my face and a little tear to my eye, fookin' ell it was one of Mater's old orthopaedic shoes, blowing the dust away from the size 10 NHS regulatation issue shoe I held it close to my moist cheek as my tears streamed onto the old clog.....such chuffin' memories.

Next amidst a few old copies of "Mayfair" and "Ballroom monthly" magazines I noticed some old letters, love letters from a selection of my past conquests. Now it's no secret that I have shared carnal relations with some very eligible ladies in my past but one particular letter made my heart sink. It was a passionate literary outpouring from the heart of one of my former lovers Anglea Rippon, things started to develop during the 1980's when Angela was presenting BBC1's "Come Dancing". I was occasionally a special guest during the series promoting my "Lester Sheepshanks Dancers" troupe', who were a talented collection of hand picked toe shufflers from my massive group of friends and pupils. Anyway I got chatting to Angela over a few weeks and we would often enjoy a large port or two in her dressing room after the show, sometimes I would drop by and whisk her off for a late night supper at one of my favourite London carverys for a nice pork roast dinner or we would stroll hand in hand giddily at midnight through Hyde Park....aah such joyful times.

We both knew that things were getting out of hand, I was 10 years older than Angela for one thing and she also had a jealous husband. Things came to a hand when one fateful July afternoon back at Angela's leafy country home, we had just commenced carnal proceedings when her husband bolted in through the bedroom door, what else could I do? I was stepping on another mans dancing shoes as it were, I had to do the decent thing and stand aside and let them sort out their marital problems - so after quickly finishing off my strokes I pasa dobled out of that bedroom with my clothes still under my arm and Foxtrotted down the stairs back to London. In her love torn letter Angela claimed that if I truly loved her I would have fought for her, but as I've said before, her husband offered to cut my feet off!! yes my sacred "Feet of Flames!"- any master of dance will tell you that his feet are his prized tools..... no thanks I thought to myself, I've had my fun - see you later Angela......ho ho ho tee hee hee, fookin' ell!!!!

Strictly come dancing? - no fookin' ta.....!!

After sitting through last nights "Strictly Come Dancing" I was astonished, nay fookin' bewildered by the Great British public's decision to axe "fleet footed BBC bit of fluff" Gabby Logan. OK Ms.Logan may be no Ethel Pokey let alone the legendary Mavis Fekkit but the way in which she was treated has left a sour taste in my mouth. As I sat on my chaise lounge' chomping through a rather tasty dish of 3 sumptious faggots (thanks Corbetts master butchers!!) a crescent of proccessed mushy peas and a fried duck egg sat in the middle I almost choked on a morsel of my delicious offal based meatball! How on earth the phone voters could chose the likes of the heavy footed Kate Garraway or former Queen Vic landlady Lettitia Dean over Gabby astounds me, whoever thought up this format should be rounded up and shot like a lame mare.....fookin' ell.

The style and grace with which Gabby performed last night was first class and speaking as a former grand master of ballroom I am flabbergasted, this morning speaking to my old dance partner Miss Gloria Munt at her retirement home even she agreed with me, sitting smiling vacantly and spilling her liquidised full English breakfast down the front of her green cardigan she told me that she could not believe the decision and that if she was 30 years younger (and indeed not deranged!!) she would whisk me down to the BBC's headquarters in London right there and then and we would perform a dance based political protest outside the BBC centre in support of Gabby.....shortly after the nurse admimistered Gloria's sedative medication I chuckled as she drifted away to sleep before I bade my farewell to the rundown "Spring Days" retirement home!!

Don't even get me started on the "Strictly..." judges, I was winning ballroom titles long before Craig Revel whats his name had even danced his 1st pasa doble! Bruno I have a lot of time for as I tutored him back in the late 1970's up at my masterclass in Blackpool, I indeed comforted him late night on more than one occasion as he wrestled over his heartbreakingly painful limpwristed indecisions...... I'm not so sure about old Len, he seems a nice cheeky bloke on TV but let me tell you having danced against him on numerous occasions in the 1960's I can vouch that he is as hard as they come and simply can't be trusted. I remember one time up in Darlington competing for the Northern counties Inter-challenge trophy, as if it was yesterday. It was the final dance off between myself and Mavis Fekkit and Len and his partner the leadfooted cockney harridan Rita Trout. Just as I was about to coax Mavis into a complex latin "Bonita Beuna gusset touch" manourevre the wily old Len could clearly be seen to lean forward and squirt a tube of toothpaste into our path causing me to slip awkwardly and spill Mavis onto the floor with a crash, needless to say Len had the last laugh as he and Rita carried off the trophy and poor old Mavis broke her ankle...the dirty fookin' rotter!!

The jury is still out on on Arlene, she certainly knows her stuff and her credentials can't really be questioned. Indeed our paths did cross back in the 1980's when she was working on Hot Gossip and I was touring my ill-fated stage show "Le Dance' Orthapedique" which in hindsight was a bad move, I was very depressed at the time and didn't realise that a dance and musical extravaganza based on Maters trusty NHS big shoe wouldn't really work, she seemed quite pleasant and friendly but that said she does seem a bit harsh to the contestants at times and really should encourage them more. If I was on the show I would be constructive and positive and not resort to petty sniping, I'm not fookin' bitter but it is common knowledge in the showbiz world that it was between Len and myself for the 4th judge's spot, I was overlooked merely because I was known for being outspoken and a dance trail blazer back in my competing days, I called a spade a spade and the fookin' BBC knew it!!!!!

That said I still enjoy the show occasionally, my money is on cheeky bald presenter Dom, believe me he is improving slowly week by week and if he continues to improve he could cause a few shocks!!!

Mater, dear Mater

Well it's that time of year again, yes my dear friends the anniversary of Mater's death. I never could imagine all those years ago just how deep and affecting the pain of loss can be, from that fateful, dark day when Mater's head was forced into the deathly vat of boiling hot lard in our back kitchen in Rosemund Road back in Barrow in Furness to now. Here I am still alone and still waiting for the day when I shall be reunited with dear Mater in heaven and we shall glide hand in hand, dancing the pasa doble on a fluffy cloud dancefloor, Mater resplendent with her silvery, lard encrusted hair in a shimmering ball gown and me wearing the very suit that I wore for my famous 1963 World championship win at the majestic Blackpool Tower ballroom!!!

Even to this day the true details of Mater's mysterious death have never been fully explained, yet only an hour after Mater was found dead that heavy footed fop Austin Lockett was openley heard drunkenly "bragging" in the "Shackled Beggar" public house in down town Barrow that he had "finally got even with old Sheepsy!!"

What a waste, we could and should have settled our differences on the dance floor like proper gentlemen, there was no need to harm innocent old Mater, she was just an innocent pawn in Austin's vicious game of revenge - but from that day on I have vowed to Mater's memory that I will not rest till he is brought to justice, the fookin' cad.....!!!

Today will be a quiet reflective day for me, around 10.00 am my agent and confidante' Maurice Shoteley will drive me to tend to Maters' grave and lay some fresh tulips on her lavish, austintatious tombstone before we return home for a luncheon of Corbetts finest pork brisket and sage sausages with a creamy pile of mash and some lighty steamed cabbage, perhaps with a side serving of pan fried pooding.....Mmmmm lovely but I digress. After lunch I will retire to Mater's "shrine" upstairs and lie down on her plastic covered bed and sob wildly for an hour or two before putting on one of Mater's beautiful glittery ball gown's, this just makes me feel closer to Mater - there is nothing morbid or peculiar about this, it merely enables me to feel the "spirit" of my beloved, dearest Mater.....

After parading around the living room in one of Maters' ballgowns, a pair of her size 10 silver dancing shoes and perhaps one of her decorative wigs for an hour or so I will as always return Mater's dress carefully to her wardrobe before phoning my only surviving brother Minton at his retirement home in Worthing. Dear old Minty is not the man he was, he is now sadly ravaged by severe dementia but he is the only link I have to Mater now and so I must persist with our empty phonecalls and meaningless cards at Xmas, he really hasn't got a clue who I am now - the matron at his care home insists it is a sympton of his illness but I believe it is just a jealous reaction to my success, none of my family apart from dear Mater have apprreciated my wealth, fame and entertainment skills....bah!

The day will finish as it always does by a light supper of maybe a Corbetts special pork pie with a slither of picalilli or perhaps a fish supper at Mater's favourite fish and chip shop in Pankhurst street, Mater would usually order chips, gravy and a fat sausage while I would usually decide on a large portion of chips, mushy peas and some "fish flavoured thumpers!!!" delicious!

God bless you Mater....................

Brand new DVD....

"LESTER SHEEPSHANKS BALLROOM MISHAPS - DVD"

'Rimco video entertainments are happy to offer you this delightful DVD for the smashing price of £7.99!! yes £7.99 buys you 90 minutes of hilarious ballroom accidents, scrapes, scandals and mishaps!!

Presented by Ballroom legend and 18 times British champion Lester Sheepshanks (CBE) this remarkable compilation is sure to delight hardened ballroom fans, Grannies, Mum's and all lovers of the medium of dance in general, highlights include:-

Harry Smith Hampshires infamous 1964 "fall" in front of the judges panel resulting in a rib tickling broken ankle for ol' Harry!!!,

Mavis Fekkit's amusing "bladder" incident in the 1987 Burnley challenge cup!!

and an array of bizzare and amusing accidents...

Les Sheepshanks says "Chuffin' ell, I've been gliding over dancefloors for over 50 years and I've seen some funny things, but this compendium of ballroom scrapes had me in chuffin' stiches, I tell you....."

Welcome....

Greetings and welcome to the world of Lester Sheepshanks, fans of the medium of ballroom will no doubt be aware of my work but for the uninitiated I am an 18 times British ballroom champion, dance choreographer, general entertainer and patron for several excellent charitable causes such as the Barrow in Furness damaged dog retreat and FOPS ( The federation of poorly Red Setters) - in memory of my late, faithful companion Toby.....

I live alone in the leafy commuter belt area of Barrow in Furness in my luxury 5 bedroom mock tudor mansion (which I purchased from my old friend Barrow based master butcher Selwyn Corbett) I am currently single as I'm far too busy with promoting the magic of dance and honouring the sacred memory of Mater'.

Hopefully this blog will be a vehicle to display my on-line diary, promote my work, publish my thoughts and opinions and also act as an official archive for my glorious career. I adore pork based products especially offal and advocate organic, humane slaughter and butchery of all the products that I consume.

I hope my one remaining true legacy to Barrow in Furness and beyond is simply that when I finally dance my last pasa doble and shuffle my final Rhumba - I will be remembered and honoured as Ol' Twinkle Toes.....the fookin' master of Dance!!!