Being Taken Up The Orme

Here in the UK we don’t get sunshine all that often. Not proper good burn yourself sunshine like you might get in more exotic climates. We get our wishy washy sun most of the time and that is it. However, occasionally we get some really good hot sunny days and then it happens. Some animal instinct kicks in and we are aware that the concrete jungle is not where we want to be. We want the smell of the sea, the sounds of people moaning about being shat on by a seagull, and the aroma of greasy fish and chips wafting up our nostrils. This all happened to me two weeks ago when the sun starting cracking the flags and I felt the pull off the sea (well the fish & chips really) and felt a desire to visit the seaside.

Now I know most people think of Liverpool as a place where we spend our days roaming around in our shell suits, with a giro burning a hole in our pockets, telling people to calm down, whilst struggling to carry all of the hubcaps we have a compulsion to steal. While this is actually true for the minority we are actually a cultured place, famed for our music, football, comedy, and men who stop the rapture by wanking – and we are of course a costal city – and as such have some lovely beaches, with hardly any floating shit in the sea and proper sand, none of that gravelly shit they have in Tenerife!

However, I got a deeper yearning – a yearning to relive a bit of my youth – a youth where I spent my holidays in North Wales, places like Talacre, Rhyl, Betws-y-coed, Conwy and Llandudno. Now I have always been a big fan of the letter L, especially when it is next to another L (phwooaaarr) and so I decided my destination would be Llandudno. I called my mate Roz who was well up for going so I set off in the car and picked her up. Then she dropped her bombshell – she wanted us to climb The Great Orme – which in case you don’t know is a huge hill. Now I’m not really an exercise person but I’m prepared to give these things a go. Plus I knew that Fish & Chips would appear on the menu at some point during the day so I agreed we would – these words would come back to haunt me!


Anyway that was later on in the day. Firstly we got to Llandudno and I parked miles (realistically maybe a mile) away from the pier as we thought we would struggle for space so we set off on a nice leisurely walk to the pier. Two things hit us immediately – one that there were a lot of old people around (thus making me feel like a teenager) and two there is a shop somewhere that is doing a roaring trade in Beige clothing – I cannot believe how many people we saw wearing some beige clothing – in fact it became a bit of a game for us to try to take a picture of everyone we saw wearing beige. A game we had to quickly give up when Roz’s camera batteries were about to run out! There must have been hundreds of the Beige Brigade around!

Anyway after deftly avoiding some classic car show – with Chitty Chitty Bang Bang in it! – and ignoring the screeching noise of Punch & Judy! We made it to the pier. Things haven’t changed on Llandudno Pier – there are still arcades, still go karts, still a fortune teller (who has inevitabley done readings for stars such as “TV’s Peggy from Hi-De-Hi, “Crossroads” Amy Turtle, “Singer” Arthur Mullard and “Comedian” Tom O’Connor) and the biggest guarantee of all – 3 shops selling lots of Country & Western cassettes/CDs who without a shadow of a doubt will have a tape playing either an obscure C&W artist or a set from an Irish Comedian you have never heard of, telling jokes your Dad would be ashamed to tell! It didn’t put us off though – we walked to the end of the pier taking in the sites – even pondering for a number of minutes why a man who was fishing off a 40ft concrete platform at the end of the pier would need to be wearing waders?!?!?!

Anyhoos we did the pier and The Great Orme was next on the agenda – now there was a problem that had developed during the course of the day – that problem was my trainers (or traineeeees if you are a fully fledged Scouser like me) - they were trying to slice my toes off. You see I had washed them in a hot wash in the machine and they had shrunk – so much so that I had lost feeling in one foot. We therefore had to do some impromptu footwear shopping. Do you know what I ended up buying the comfiest pair of pumps ever for £7 (God Bless Peacocks!) but this meant I was now ready for the challenge. There are a few ways to reach the top of the Orme – there are Cable Cars, buses, and a tram. We decided to walk. I thought it wouldn’t be a problem because as unfit as I am I can still walk for miles without any strain on me. However, this is a very steep hill (some might say [exaggerate] mountain) to climb. I was a quarter of the way up before we had to stop while I had my first heart attack. Not even halfway up when my 2nd heart attack came – though on this breathing break we were treated to a woman trying and failing to drive up the hill which caused much wheezy laughter from me. We carried on and reached the halfway point over looking the dry ski slope when I had yet another heart attack, before I was forced to carry on again. About 2/3 of the way up I needed another break as my lungs had now also ganged up on me. I was ready to give up when a family of 2 adults and 2 small children started STROLLING up the hill like it was a flat walk – I was forced to carry on. Every slope we got over I was assured we were right near the top – 5 times we crossed an horizon only to see another one up ahead.

To cut a long story short 6 heart attacks later we reached the top. What did we do while we were up there? Fuck all – had a drink, took some photos and then when I had my body back under control we headed down. Guess what – we took the tram! I thoroughly enjoyed this. Not least because there was a woman who looked the spitting image of Tubbs from The League Of Gentlemen on the tram with us.

Anyway we reached the bottom, and that meant one thing – fish & chips time! We went to a chippy that I was last in maybe 16 years ago and it was still exactly the same. It must have been a popular chippy because it was full of people…..wait a minute did I say people? I actually meant flies! But fuck it we were both starving & I had ordered the food so we took it anyway. Do you know what it tasted bloody gorgeous! We went to the beach to eat it, and apart from me threatening to punch a seagull in the face it was a bloody lovely meal.

It was nearing the end of the day & I had one ambition left! To write a rude word in stones on the beach. We set off back to the car and once we got there we set off to graffiti the ground [Note: to Dame Wincey you do not want to read this bit I promise you - look away now]. The graffiti started with a good laugh anyway as Roz fell over – me being the sympathetic man I am I of course did what any man would do. I pointed and laughed at her! Anyway she was ok so we collected our stones. I needed a word that described me – it was my day after all. I pondered it for about 30 seconds and I had it…….



I was strangely proud of my work…..for almost a minute until we saw a couple walking towards the desecrated ground. What did we do you might ask? What do you think? We ran away laughing leaving our new addition to Llandudno’s tourist attraction in tact for future generations to see!

So what about the aftermath of this brilliant day in Llandudno? Well the main thing was that I had sore Bnees for days (for those who don’t know what #Bnees are you need to look HERE) – but it was a great day –if you want to see some of the pictures of the day I suggest you look on my Facebook Page where there are a few pics of the day.

But for now I shall say Ffarwel

@Gazabell

Britain's Got (Fixed) Talent

You might have seen THIS LINK on Twitter today about Ronan Parkes being a fix winner of this year’s Britain’s Got Talent, but I am here to tell you that things are not quite as they seem. You see you may not know this but I work for SYCO which makes Britain’s Got Talent and I have the REAL inside story on what is happening. You see I am Simon Cowell’s hairdresser – I maintain his fine locks by quickly setting his hair on fire and then putting it back out with a wet Tea Towel before any major damage is done – thus giving him his stubby burnt paintbrush look.

Anyways back to the real story. Ronan Parkes is just a decoy so that people think he is an obvious winner. The truth is that Cowell has somebody much more talented in mind for the coveted winners spot. That person is of course Jean Martyn






The production team first came across Jean in 2008 when she was a small black man called Trevor. Trevor was at the birthday party of Timmy Mallet, and had a novelty act of some repute. The producers were so impressed that they signed him up to a lifetime contract with SYCO right away and invited Trevor to come to the 2009 auditions, when, unlike other contestants, they got Louis Walsh to pay him on the bus.

The time came for Trevor to perform his act as a Chinchilla juggling rapper. However, he was very nervous and accidently stood on one of the chinchillas before the audition, so Cowell, seeing the potential, took Trevor backstage and allowed him to perform privately in his dressing room, with his mother there to support him. Cowell could see the potential but thought that chinchilla juggling rappers were ten a penny and wanted something different for what he saw as a potential future megastar who could break the notoriously difficult over 50’s market.

He immediately set a team to work to change Trevor into the star he knew he could be. Unbeknownst to even his own mother, the team changed Trevor into a white middle aged woman called Jean Martyn. As 2010 rolled along they encouraged Jean to work on a new act that would wow the audience and so in Cardiff in 2010 the Judges and audience were to see the new Jean for the first time. Jean was incredibly nervous doing her new act, which was Pole Dancing whilst singing Yellow Submarine, and as a result she performed her fanny whirler finale too early causing the pole to buckle and send her crashing to the floor.

This was a disaster so Cowell once again stepped in. The audition was wiped from the records and he sent a new team in to work with Jean before the menopause hit, which would put her career on hold. He told the team that they had to have Jean ready for 2011 or else! A team of piano teachers, elocution teachers, and sparkly jacket makers were set to work to make Jean ready for 2011.

Then, the most disgusting part for me, somebody in a production meeting suggested that rather than hide Jean’s naturally bubbly personality they should highlight the more “mental” aspects of it. After all there had never been a mental middle-aged woman on TV before and the company could make millions from it! Jean was restyled completely from top to bottom. She was encouraged to giggle like a donkey given ecstasy. She was told to wear sparkly Joan Collins style jackets, wink indiscriminately and give the occasional thumbs up to anyone in her eyeline.

She was prepared and at the 2011 auditions Jean was unveiled, as the Les Dawson stylee, piano bashing gurning simpleton that Cowell knew the British public would fall in love with. The judges were ordered to give a standing ovation, and David Hasslehoff was even ordered to have his penis poking out of his zip in a “love salute” to Jean!

Then the SYCO publicity machine went into overdrive and immediately a Facebook fanpage, and even an Xtube page was set up for Jean, all managed directly by SYCO in case Jean put anything they didn’t want on the page. This was not done for any other act apart from Ronan Parkes (The decoy). Again Jean was given special treatment; she was given a £20 Argos gift voucher and a 20% discount card at Spud-U-Like. This is terrible as at some point Jean will have to pay all this back out her winnings. She doesn’t know as she sits there every day gorging herself on Tuna & Sweetcorn Jacket potato at reduced price that she is getting herself deeper and deeper into debt with SYCO!

And this Saturday when the final happens and Jean inevitably wins it she doesn’t realise what the future will hold. She will be expected to perform at Bingo Halls up and down the country, and if she is tired it won’t matter. Some lowlife will be there to pop another Sanatogen in her Ovaltine and let her freebase some cod liver oil to inject between her toes.

It is a slippery slope and all because she wanted to appear on TV. Once she hits that menopause in a couple of years time she will be discarded and left to fend for herself. Will she make a comeback? Probably not, though maybe she can appear on Celebrity Coach Trip. Who knows?

Thank you for letting me get this message out there. It needed to be done!

Not so Anon
SYCO