Let's all remember Selwyn Corbett!

Morning Dance fans,

On flicking through my diary late last night I stumbled across a small reminder that today would have been the 76th birthday of my late, dear old friend and proud purveyor of all things pork Selwyn Corbett, so to celebrate his great life I offer you this wonderful picture of some beautiful, tasty severed pigs heads!! - Simmer one of these in a huge pot for 6 hours with some water, carrots, a few leeks, potatos, and a few onions and you have a wonderful pigs head stew....fookin' priceless!! - Old Selwyn was a giant of a man - mentally, physically and spiritually and I cherish the times we spent together.

We were both cut from the same metaphoric slice of pork loin, from the heady days we spent roaming the rat infested streets of Barrow as shoeless children to the joyous moment when we both finally escaped our poverty stricken misery and made it as true champions of our chosen fields....me as the grand master of dance and Selwyn as the North Wests master pork butcher from 1967 to 1974!! I miss old Selwyn dearly and wherever he is hopefully (up there in pork heaven) I send this message:- "I still miss you old proud lad but until we meet again just remember the sacred, solemn motto of the Guild of pork master butchers.........HALLOWED BE THY PORK!!!!"

A Final snippet from "Feet of Flames"!!

Well loyal friends here is the final teaser from my authorized life story - "Feet of Flames".

Concentrating on the blissfully happy years from 1970-73, chapter 7 covers my first marriage to Glenda, continued ballroom success, amazing times spent with Mater' and my fondness for pork and all it's glories...so settle down with a large mug of suuugary tea and a nice wild boar sausage toastie and fookin' read on!

"I first met Glenda Sealey in August 1971, at the Mecca ballroom in Barrow in Furness. I was strictly off duty that fateful hot Friday night as I was recovering from a rather severe bout of gout in my ankle which had forced me to opt out of that years British championship in Blackpool. Anyway I was stood by the bar chatting idly to two of my dancing pals the effeminate Galton Linseed and the fleet footed Wilmot Singent when I spied a pretty maid sat by the dancefloor with her friend Valerie. After introducing ourselves we bought the girls a few drinks and before long old Wilmot had paired off with Val and I had snared the alluring young Glenda, poor old Galton was out of luck although he did leave for home later that night with a nice young chap called Mervyn!

After treating Glenda to a substantial pork roast supper at a local carvery what followed was a whirlwind romance of torrid proportions, I was well and truly smitten. Yes over the next few weeks Glenda and I spent every waking hour in each others company - we shared a common bond.....a love of dance and a lust for life itself. I introduced Glenda to the joys of pork and in return she showered me with love and devotion. After a quick courtship I knew the time had come to unite the two most important women in my life, Mater' and Glenda.

I remember clearly that fateful first meeting in the back parlour of the house I shared with Mater' in Rosemund street, Hinge had pulled out all the stops to welcome Glenda into the Sheepshanks family nest. Laying on lashings of sweet suuuugary tea, with some nice pork luncheon meat, lettuce and tomato sandwiches, and a nice selection of cakes including cream horns, chocolate eclairs, choux buns and Mater's favourite - a big chuffin buuuuutery Eccles cake, eeeh a real chuffin' treat I say!!! anyway I really thought that Mater' and Glenda would hit it off straight away but for some bizzare reason there seemed to be a frostiness and distance between the pair of them, what a dissapointment. Here I was with the two most precious people in my life and they wore unable to interact. Mater' was a classy lady who had dragged herself from the rat infested back streets of Barrow into a two time ballroom pairs champion but she had never forgotten her working class roots and so I really thought that she would embrace the pretty hardworking Glenda, but no it wasn't to be. After I wed Glenda six months later she would often claim that Mater' was jealous of her and she wanted me all for herself but that was pure twaddle! naturally myself and Mater' had a special, unique Mother and Son bond but she would never stand in the way of ol' Lesleys happiness......no way!


Anyhow undettered I vowed to marry Glenda in the belief that things would right themselves eventually and in time Mater' and Glenda would become truly great friends. I pulled out all the stops for our wedding and hired out the plush sir Harry Twigg-Chafe suite at the stately 4 star 'Hassocks hotel' in West Barrow, nothing was too much trouble for my precious one as we enjoyed a prime five course pork bonanza (devised by my great friend and best man master butcher and keen amateur cook Selwyn Corbett) including seasoned pigs kidneys wrapped in pork luncheon meat, on a bed of lettuce, sprinkled with some luscious bacon bits fried in pure pork fat and clarified buuuuuuuter, oooh fookin' beltin it were I tell you!!

I should have known that problems lay ahead at the wedding, when the registrar pondered the fateful question as too if anyone present had any objections to our sacred union Mater gingerley got to her feet and murmured something under her breath. My cousin Rupert later drunkily claimed that she had indeed muttered quietly that 'that little shrew Glenda won't get her mitts on my little tinkie poo Lester, no chuffin' way!!!!', anyhow the wedding went ahead and our vows were finally exchanged! yes British ballrooms most eligible bachelor had made an honest women of Glenda Sealey!

With the reception over Glenda and myself spent a wonderful three days honeymoon at my luxurious caravan in Bournemouth before returning to Barrow to move in with beloved meek Mater'. Initially everything seemed fine and blissful and after a brief fragile few weeks Glenda and Mater' began to finally bond and started to get on like a house on fire, Mater' even offered to help Glenda to re-decorate our marital love nest, and the two proud beauties would often spend hours scouring Barrow market for pork treats for ol' Twinkle toes!

As ever in old Lesleys life though tragedy was waiting just around the corner, we had only been married for four weeks when I recieved the hideous phone call at my 'Lester Sheepshanks Dance School' in downtown Barrow!!! Glenda had somehow mysteriously fallen from the top rung of a rickety step ladder at our home in Rosemund Street and died almost instantly, Mater' found her twitching body on the floor and boldly tried to recusitate the poor soul but alas it was too late and the lovely, thoughtful Glenda had gone to the the great ballroom in the sky.....

Years later awful, sinister allegations were cast by that foppish, lead footed, limp wristed twot Austin Lockett that Mater' had indeed pushed Glenda from the step ladder but that is evil nonsense, Mater' told me that she was downstairs making them both a pot of suuugary tea and a nice pork based platter at the time and I had no reason to doubt my silvery haired Mother, no this was a terrible freak accident and nothing else, the searing, red handlike marks around poor Glenda's porcelain neck proved to be from when dear Mater' pitifully and rather heroically tried to save Glenda after her awful, tragic fall, and the severe bruising and bloody cuts on her soft head where not inflicted by Mater's size 10 orthopaedic shoe as alleged by Lockett but by the fall onto one of my unfortunately placed dance trophies, no it was an awful bizzare household decorating tragedy and nothing else, but once again happiness eluded me.............."

Austin Lockett - An apology

It has been brought to my attention by my brief Mr.Uttoxeter Arbroath that in my last few posts I have in someway sullied and cast asperssions on the alleged "good" name of my nemesis and ballroom rival Mr.Austin Lockett of Barrow in Furness. I apologise whole heartedley to Mr.Lockett for any distress caused by my "allegations" and by way of pennance I am hereby offering to make a donation to the charity of his choice......

The fookin' lousy, mincing chuffin fooker!! no way NO WAY I say, that fooker did poor old Mater' in and everyone know's it, AAARRGGHHH fook the fookin' lot of yer.........!!!!

"Feet of Flames" another taster......

Morning old friends, as promised here is another gripping installment from my forthcoming (and fully updated) autobiography due out in the new year, available from all reputable book stores for just £5.99!!!. Right now let's settle down and fix ourselves a cold drink, a nice gin and tonic perhaps and feast on some delicious crusty bread spread with prime "head cheese" (any pork novices simply must try this delightful offal delicacy which is the tasty section of meat and tissue found in the pigs skull which is chilled and then set in gelatin!!!!) as I transport you back to May 1982....

"My 5 bedroom mock tudor mini mansion in Barrow in Furness (above) is truly an imposing building but inside it is a peaceful, safe haven for my huge collection of dance artefacts and treasures. Housed within the ornate Tudor style outershell is a breathtaking array of tasteful decor and spectacular rooms but the most splendid and solemn of living quarters is Mater's shrine which is housed on the 2nd floor........

When I first moved into the glorious building the first thing I set about doing was hiring the services of Barrow based interior designer Roger Paquette who had the unenviable task of recreating Mater's simple but decorative bedroom from our old home in Rosamund Street in West Barrow, Mater and I lived in the nice 3 bedroom semi from 1966 to 1974 - the year of Mater's brutal m-m-m-m-murder....I still can hardly bring myself to utter the word but the truth will out, someone took her away from me and left me a shell, nay a fookin' wreck, stranded on a seabed of despair and loneliness. Deep down that person knows he has done wrong, that man is wandering around to this day gloating in the knowledge that he has killed not just one person in Hinge Sheepshanks but also me. On that day when Maters' head was thrust into the vat of scolding hot boiling lard not only Mater' died but I died too. Legal proceedings prevent me from discussing this in more detail but I'll say just 2 words.....Lockett and murder - the dirty fookin' bastid!!!

After the pointless slaying of Mater I left the pleasant, leafy surroundings of Rosamund Street and moved down to Bournemouth to mourn Mater'. I spent 4 painful years in my luxury caravan but in 1980 I knew that I finally had to move on and so plucked up the inner strength and courage to return to Barrow and rebuild my life, as luck would have it my dear old friend Selwyn Corbett was selling his luxury tudor home, he named a reasonable price I accepted and the rest as they say is chuffin' history..........

To recreate Mater's bedroom was truly to be a massive project for Roger as he painstakingly studied pictures and drawings to lovingly craft a perfect reproduction of Hinge's bedroom. On the day of completion, I handed over a cheque for £18,000 to the grinning Roger and he left me alone to soak up the pure majesty of Mater's finished shrine. Everything was perfect - her huge old oak wardrobe which housed her luxury dance gowns was in it's rightful place along with the ornate dressing table festooned with perfumes, hairbrushes and make up accesories. Pictures of myself and Mater on holiday and at prestigious dance functions adorned the walls and her old size 10 orthapaedic shoe sat serenley on the bed next to her glass eye which was fished out of the pan of hot lard on that deathly day and given to me back in 1978 after the official closure of the Hinge Sheepshanks murder case.

I must have spent 3 hours in that room alone that day, just sobbing hysterically into Maters' plastic wrapped pillow. It was a great help in my grieving process, to learn to take one day at a time and to return to normality....I retired from competitive dancing for 4 years in the midst of my grief and misery but I knew that Mater would want me to return to dance and this was confirmed late one night in a spiritually enlightening visitation by Mater!!!

Now I had never really believed in an afterlife but that fateful night in 1982 forced me to change my opinion. I remember it like it was this morning, By this period I was hitting the gin quite heavily and after a marathon binge session of 2 bottles of Gordon's finest and a handful of sleeping tablets I had just turned off 'Come Dancing' one warm July evening and after finishing off a large Corbetts sausage roll with lashings of pea juice had alighted the stairs to change into my velvet pyjamas. After cleaning my teeth I staggered into Maters shrine and gingerley sat down on her plastic covered sheets. Moments later and I felt a cold, deathly chill down my spine, suddenley Mater's old silver music box began to play a lullaby and I was bathed in celestial heavenly light. Fook! there was Mater' hovering over me in her 1946 British cup winning dance gown, her silvery soft hair slightly caked in lard.....chuffin' fook I thought as she beckoned me towards her, 'Tinkie poo, listen my son dearest Lester, you must move on, Mater is gone but she is fine and happy waiting for you dear Lester in heaven, Live your life to the full, enjoy all the pork and dance based experiences that you can and do not worry about me, the moment will be upon us one day and we shall be together again.....'

Minutes later I woke up soaked in sweat on Maters bed, the room was silent as I took a deep breath and slowly returned to my bedroom before falling into a restful Mater' dream filled slumber......that next day I vowed to live my life to the full again, Sheepsy was back and my feet of flames were reborn - Eeeeh fook, the sheer magic of dance!!!!!!"