6.30am Saturday morning and I awoke to Maurice's snoring reverberating around the walls of our humble room, it was a glorious day and I could hear the reassuring sound of seagulls squawking outside. After picking at a rather average full English breakfast in the B&B we left in disgust and hit "Ted's Cafe" on the Golden Mile for a tasty alternative. Maurice ordered 14 slices of toast with butter and suuuuuuugary tea whilst ol' twinkle toes decided on a light platter consisting of 3 fried eggs, 4 cumberland sausages, a gammon steak and 5 rashers of streaky bacon, all washed down by a pot of sweet Yorkshire tea - eeeh chuffin' pork heaven!
After a mid morning stroll along the promenade Maurice nipped off for a quick bet whilst I went back to the hotel room to take my medication (for my career ending chronic gout and high blood pressure).
After catching up with Maurice at 2.00pm back on the North pier we had arranged to go and meet one of my old friends Judith Chalmers who was up North filming a segment on Blackpool for "Wish you were here". I've known Judith for donkeys years and she was a particular tower of strength during my very public breakdown a few years back, rumours still persist that Judith and I have a carnal history but I can confirm now that it's not fookin' true, granted if the chance arose I probably would have had my fill as Judith is a fine, good looking woman but alas we are good chuffin' friends and no more.
After sharing a pot of tea and a couple of cream horn's with Judith we bid our farewells as I had planned to honour a sacred promise I had made over 2 years ago to my old late friend master butcher Selwyn Corbett, just before his senseless murder Selwyn had pleaded with me that if he ever perished he wanted his ashes to be cast into the cold, polluted sea at Blackpool. As a man of honour I had no choice but to grant him his wishes, and so at about 4.00pm I strolled down to the sea front with dear old Selwyn's tin of ashes under my coat, with a tear in my eye I gingerley loosened the old biscuit tin lid and removed it, steadying myself and with tears now streaming down my face I leant forward but suddenly a huge gust of wind swept forward and sent my dead butcher friends ashes flying in a thick, grey cloud all over me (and my favourite fookin' blazer - the inconsiderate bastid!) dusting myself down I began to snigger and afforded myself a gentle laugh before tears of joy and mirth again began to well in my eyes. I must have looked a sight as me ol' twinkle toes Sheepsy strode valiantly back to my B&B covered in a fookin' dead man's ash giggling hysterically......hee hee what a fookin' palaver!!
Maurice chuckled as I retold my story and as we strolled down the promenade that night we both laughed with delight as we skipped along without a care in the world......That last night was a perfect end to a beltin' weekend as after dancing the night away at the Tower Ballroom I bumped into Joyce again and enjoyed a romantic late night stroll along the beach and some tasteful, respectful shennanigans back in my hotel room before she left to return home to her husband and I met Maurice at a late night gentlemans club for some bawdy entertainment including my old pal Burton Curle doing an impromptu stand up spot and a few exotic dancers! fook I had too look away as in old Les's book THAT wasn't dance but live and let live I say, these girls were making a good living out of their "saucy act" and with added tips etc they can't be knocked so I respectfully doff my cap to them, the fookin' proud beauties!!!!!!!
After a mid morning stroll along the promenade Maurice nipped off for a quick bet whilst I went back to the hotel room to take my medication (for my career ending chronic gout and high blood pressure).
After catching up with Maurice at 2.00pm back on the North pier we had arranged to go and meet one of my old friends Judith Chalmers who was up North filming a segment on Blackpool for "Wish you were here". I've known Judith for donkeys years and she was a particular tower of strength during my very public breakdown a few years back, rumours still persist that Judith and I have a carnal history but I can confirm now that it's not fookin' true, granted if the chance arose I probably would have had my fill as Judith is a fine, good looking woman but alas we are good chuffin' friends and no more.
After sharing a pot of tea and a couple of cream horn's with Judith we bid our farewells as I had planned to honour a sacred promise I had made over 2 years ago to my old late friend master butcher Selwyn Corbett, just before his senseless murder Selwyn had pleaded with me that if he ever perished he wanted his ashes to be cast into the cold, polluted sea at Blackpool. As a man of honour I had no choice but to grant him his wishes, and so at about 4.00pm I strolled down to the sea front with dear old Selwyn's tin of ashes under my coat, with a tear in my eye I gingerley loosened the old biscuit tin lid and removed it, steadying myself and with tears now streaming down my face I leant forward but suddenly a huge gust of wind swept forward and sent my dead butcher friends ashes flying in a thick, grey cloud all over me (and my favourite fookin' blazer - the inconsiderate bastid!) dusting myself down I began to snigger and afforded myself a gentle laugh before tears of joy and mirth again began to well in my eyes. I must have looked a sight as me ol' twinkle toes Sheepsy strode valiantly back to my B&B covered in a fookin' dead man's ash giggling hysterically......hee hee what a fookin' palaver!!
Maurice chuckled as I retold my story and as we strolled down the promenade that night we both laughed with delight as we skipped along without a care in the world......That last night was a perfect end to a beltin' weekend as after dancing the night away at the Tower Ballroom I bumped into Joyce again and enjoyed a romantic late night stroll along the beach and some tasteful, respectful shennanigans back in my hotel room before she left to return home to her husband and I met Maurice at a late night gentlemans club for some bawdy entertainment including my old pal Burton Curle doing an impromptu stand up spot and a few exotic dancers! fook I had too look away as in old Les's book THAT wasn't dance but live and let live I say, these girls were making a good living out of their "saucy act" and with added tips etc they can't be knocked so I respectfully doff my cap to them, the fookin' proud beauties!!!!!!!
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