Temperamental stars and a heavenly pork utopia...

Morning purveyours of dance,

Been pretty busy all this week, rehearsals for "CHUFFIN' HELL WHERE'S ME OSTRICH!??!!!" began in earnest on Monday morning and as ever in most new productions there has been some slight teething problems and clashes of ego's. But to be honest if you dare to put such huge multi faceted talent like Bernie Clifton, Ruth Madoc and Roger De Courcy in the same room as one and other you are bound to have friction and some fall outs.

Things began brightly enough as my old mate and leading man Bernie Clifton arrived bright and breezy at 10.00am Monday morning at the compact "Arthur Fadgewick" theatre in downtown Barrow. But after a quick coffee and chat with old Clifton, Welsh "Hi-de-hi" legend Ruth Madoc strolled in and began to make some extraordinary showbiz demands. Astonishingly she requested a private flower festooned dressing room, a DVD player with the complete "Hi-de-hi" box set, and a steady supply of Earl Grey tea and finest Scottish buuuuuuter shortbread!! Now don't get me wrong Madoc is a damn fine actress and a veteran of stage and small screen but I'm putting on a deeply artistic and sometimes moving production and I want my cast to be commited, focused, passionate and dedicated wholly to the cause of dance and song, there are no place for ego's in such a proud production as "CHUFFIN' HELL WHERE'S ME OSTRICH!??!!!"

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse Roger De Courcy bounced in with his cheeky sidekick Nookie on his arm and things instantly went from bad to worse. Unknown to me Bernie Clifton and De Courcy had harboured a long standing showbiz grudge from 1982 when both appeared on the "Little and Large show", it transpired that De Courcy was jealous of the superior backstage treatment being given to Clifton which led to a full on fist fight in the BBC canteen - I never knew of this startling saga and hold my agent and booking manager Maurice Shoteley totally responsible for this apalling oversight. It turns out that the two comedy greats haven't spoken since!!! Fookin' ell I thought as I nervously smoothed things over between the two giants of comedy, with the help of a large pot of strong suuuugary tea and an unfeasibly large plate of assorted pork related treats (Corbetts prime sausage rolls, some thick shards of top quality black pooooding, a pile of finest Mudchute farm ham and picalilli sandwiches and a few pigs trotters) the frostiness began to thaw and within half an hour the two were getting on like a house on fire and reminiscing about the fookin' "good old days!"

Breathing a sigh of relief I quickly won Ruth Madoc around with some flaccid, wilting flowers and a pack of cheap stale shortbread from the nearby garage and hastily got to work with my talented cast!!! With cable tv paranormal crusader Denton Pentangle arriving two hours late things soon got back on track and we began to learn the complex initial dance and song routines.

I had decided to embrace the whole gamut of dance emotions into this ambitious stage show and so had dug deep into my huge knowledge of fleet footery to assemble a diverse array of mediums including the quickstep, the rumba, the cha cha cha, modern jive and the Carolina shag!!! - Obviously Bernie and co are not natural dancers but I was determined to lick them into shape, if Anton Du Beke can make the leaden hooved Kate Garraway look half decent than surely ol Les can do the same with the eager Roger De Courcy!!!

After some problems the cast eventually settled into some of the more basic, limited steps as I finally decided that my Lester Sheepshanks dance troupe' should be able to deflect some attention away and compensate for the main stars heavy footedness......things were looking good but as ever trouble was lurking around the corner. Just after lunch Roger De Courcy slipped off the edge of the stage and fell with a horrifying thud on the floor, after a few hours in Barrow infirmary casualty department old Roger went home to rest his badly sprained ankle and so I stepped in to cover his part for the rest of the day, after a quick warm down we all said our farewells and left for home, feeling a bit peckish on the way back to my palatial mock tudor mini mansion I instructed Maurice Shoteley to stop off at the "Golden Plaice" chippy on Peterfinch Street for a nice supper. After some deliberation Maurice opted for five bumper cod fillets, a large tray of chips and muuuuushy peas whilst I opted for chips, two large battered sausages and a large polystyrene container of curry sauce.....eeeeh fookin' heavenly, the marriage of that good old British staple - curry sauce and the mechanically recovered crispy pork sausaaaaages was chuffin' majestic!!!!

I'll update again soon!!!

Lester's musical and dance extravaganza to tour!

It gives me great pleasure to announce that after months of top secret discussions and talks a brand new "Lester Sheepshanks company" production will commence touring in March 2008....

"CHUFFIN' HELL WHERE'S ME OSTRICH!??!!!" is a new musical/dance extravaganza co-written by myself and Barrow based impressario Roger Cutlet. Dr.Branston Wimpole (played by the talented Bernie Clifton!) is a harmless, eccentric scientist whose only ambition in life is to find a cure for gout!! Ever since his dear, late father Dixon perished 20 years earlier due to "metabolic arthiritis" complications old Branston has vowed to save mankind and devise an antidote!!

With the help of his hilarious ostrich sidekick Oswald, our hero Branston sets out on a high octane, riotous music and dance based journey of love, happiness and ultimately heartache!

With a full supporting cast including the fantastic Lester Sheepshanks dance troupe', Roger De Courcy (as the hilarious ghost of Branstons late father!!) cable T.v. illusionist Denton Pentangle and "Hi-de-hi's" Ruth Madoc this wondrous, delightful musical production will delight all followers of dance in general, old and young alike!!

Rehearsals are due to begin next week before we take the show to the provincial towns of Britiain, so keep your ears and eyes open for ticket details.

I'll update again soon with snippets and revealing and hopefully hilarious chuffin' insights on how rehearsals are shaping up.....till then - look after yerselves!!

Belated Xmas wishes....hope you had a belter!

Seasons greetings ballroom friends,

How was your Xmas? I hope you had a belter! - I have to say mine was a mixed bag of emotions. This time of year is always a difficult period for me what with the huge, black shadow of loneliness cast over me caused by dear old Hinge Sheepshanks no longer being around but as ever I bravely soldiered on like the proud, ballroom luminary old Mater would want me to be.

As you can recall due to my crippling gout affliction I had to cancel my appearance in Panto this year but I will be back stronger and refreshed next year - "oh no you won't - oh yes I will be you chuffin' fookers!!!!" tee hee hee.....

As usual I spent Xmas eve alone in my 5 bedroom luxury mini-mansion in Barrow, with just my memories as company. When Mater was alive we would usually spend xmas eve at home decorating the tree and wrapping the presents and generally preparing for the big day. As a pork affecionado I would usually forego the traditional festive turkey for a top quality 4kg roast pork loin complete with crackling and all the trimmings - crispy roasties, pork fat and buuuuuuuuter glazed baby carrots, yorkshire puuuuuuuuuudings, brussels, huge glorious piles of steamed cabbage, sausages wrapped in prime pork luncheon meat and the most sumptious pork based gravy you have ever tasted! eeh they were fookin' blissful times I tell you.

This year as ever I placed a gift for Mater' under the tree, I know it's silly but it's tradition now and it helps me to keep her memory alive, Bernie Clifton called around in the evening for a few sherries and to drop off a present for me which was very kind of him (thankfully he lift his hilarious pesky fookin' ostrich sidekick Oswald in the the car!!!) - after Bernie left I morbidly skulked around in Maters' shrine for a few hours before retiring to bed around midnight.

Xmas day and I awoke around 8.30am to be awaken by my reliable Morphy Richards teasmaid jetting a scolding hot plume of water all over my left trotter....FOOK! after slipping into my favourite dressing gown and Harrods tartan carpet slippers I glided downstairs and rhumba'd my way into the living room to be greeted by a huge blanket of gifts all for ol' Sheepsy. Firstly thanks to all my fans who kindly sent gifts to me, literally dozens of you sent presents but unfortunately I simply could not cope with the sheer capacity of festive offerings and so have given some of them to FOPS (Federation of poorly red setters) where they will be raffled to raise funds for the sickly little lads and lady setters!! Special thanks to Mrs. Bethel Mange' of Leicester for your wonderful gadget......the handy mini kitchen scraper you sent me is ideal for removing tightly packed marrow from small and tricky yet tasty pork bones!

After a delicious simple and light breakfast of 4 crispy pork and sage sausages, 2 duck eggs and a few shards of blackk pooooooding Maurice Shoteley picked me up around 11.00am and drove me to Barrow cemetry to pay my yuletide respects at Mater's shrine where I also shared a private moment with my old companion Toby Sheepshanks....

On arrival at the Shoteley household I accepted a sherry from Maurices lovely wife Brenda before an adequate xmas dinner of roast turkey and all the trimmings, as I've said often before pork and only pork is my chosen form of meat and so was not happy about the prospect of being forced to eat an old bird but credit where it's due old Brenda didn't let me down and it was quite a decent attempt from the game girl!!!

After a few large sherries, a couple of games of charades and our beloved Queens speech I said my farewells to the kind Shoteleys and caught a cab back to my 5 bedroom mini mansion, the rest of the day was a blurred sherry induced haze and I awoke around 9.00pm sat in front of the tv with an unfeasibly large glass of sherry by my side and a huge half eaten pork pie nestling in my lap.....hee hee what a fookin' palaver!!

Happy Xmas!!!!

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!!!!!!"