THE PROFESSIONALS ARE BACK....

The news that another cult classic television show is about to hit the big screen with the remake of the late 70's favourite The Professionals. That I'm sure will gladden the nostalgic heartstrings of many women of a certain age who used to perve over Bodie and Doyle strutting their stuff. Studio Lyonsgate have acquired the rights to produce the film of the crime-fighting duo from the fictional CI5 agency. 

The original series starred the permed Martin Shaw as Doyle the police detective and my personal favourite Lewis Collins as Bodie the ruthless former SAS sergeant and mercenary. Keeping the two in check was Gordon Jackson as the boss of CI5. Quite a change in role from the butler Hudson in Upstairs Downstairs. The same production team from the last two Bond films and Captain America are starting filming later this year. I really hope they keep the kick-ass theme tune and the inclusion of sexy fast cars. I shall be keeping my peepers peeled for this one coming out....

DON'T PUT YOUR DAUGHTER ON THE STAGE MRS WORTHINGTON

Can there be anything quite as nauseous as child singers? You don't see them around too much these days, but when I was growing up, they were everywhere, assaulting our eardrums and clogging up the charts. I just can't understand the appeal or cute factor of some little midget singing like they've just sucked up gallons of helium from balloons. Particularly grimsville is when they are the products of stage schools - I'm thinking the 'eyes and teeth' fodder from Sylvia Young's Stage School or the Italia Conti Stage School. No sorry folks, performing kids just leave me cold. Little Jimmy Osmond sticks in my mind as probably the Prince of Sickbags with the strangely titled 'Long Haired Lover From Liverpool'. Strange indeed when he had a pudding bowl haircut, came from somewhere in Utah and slightly odd that he's singing a lyric about being a 'lover' when he was about 10 at the time and Mormons don't actually do that sort of thing until their wedding night. Watch the video and weep at the miming, the dance routine and the fact it got to christmas number one...

To plunge into even greater depths of ghastliness, check out the following for records you would never own up to having in your collection in a million years from very small people with very ambitious parents....

Lena Zavaroni - Ma, He's Making Eyes At Me 

Donny Osmond - Puppy Love

Neil Reid - Mother of Mine 

St Winifred's School Choir - There's No-One Quite Like Grandma

Hanson - MMMbop 

Miley Cyrus - All  

Justin Beiber - All 

GOOSED MUSCLES BUT SO WORTH IT...

It's Sunday night already and where the hell did the weekend go? It started with much hilarity during a late, late Friday night at work. Much stress with 4 of us working away after 6pm when my colleague's mobile phone went off. Somewhat annoyed at her husband ringing her no doubt to check politely when his wife might be coming home, she answered it in her inimitable no-nonsense style 'I'M COMING HOWARD, I'M COMING'. Being a dirty dog and not being able to resist, I turned round to deliver a line something on the lines of 'bloody hell, there's an insight into what it must be like to be your next door neighbours you saucy mare'. Cue much hysteria and a much needed relief from the full-on stress. 
Yesterday saw me heading over to Lytham to meet up with my mates for lunch. But being a good weather day was just too good an opportunity to miss so we walked the two minutes down to the beach for a mad game of football. I'm very sorry to the beachfront residents who had to witness us four falling over, running around like kids screeching and swearing like dockers when the ball was booted towards the Isle of Man and had to be retrieved via a three foot jump off a sandbank. Great day with the crazy gang as usual with many, many laughs. 
Today has been spent being busy in the garden with the first spring lawn cut and digging over of the borders. I've jet washed everything that doesn't move and tried to ignore anything that does ie. frogs in case of sudden and debilitating hyperventilation. Thai takeaway for tonight's evening meal and a thousand aching muscles even in places I didn't know had muscles. Sunday night to be finished off nicely with a Radox soak in the bath after the final of Dancing On Ice. Surely it can't only be me who is secretly hoping Chloe Madeley falls flat on her gobshitey face during tonight's final can it? 

BEST AND WORST COVER VERSIONS....

I read a poll recently from Total Guitar magazine listing the readers top 5 best and worst cover versions. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Celine Dion won the worst cover version hands down for her rendition of AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long. Perhaps Celine's agent had the insight not to actually release the single after the damage was done when Celine warbled away the tune at a Las Vegas concert in 2002. So here's the list of the full top 5 in both categories...

Worst Cover Versions 

1. Celine Dion - You Shook Me All Night Long (AC/DC)

2. Girls Aloud/Sugerbabes - Walk This Way (Run DMC and Aerosmith) 

3. Westlife - More Than Words (Extreme) 

4. Will Young - Light My Fire (The Doors) 

5. The Mike Flowers Pops - Wonderwall (Oasis) 

Best Cover Versions 

1. Jimi Hendrix - All Along The Watchtower (Bob Dylan) 

2. The Beatles - Twist and Shout (The Top Notes) 

3. Guns n Roses - Live and Let Die (Wings) 

4. Nirvana - The Man Who Sold The World (David Bowie) 

5. Muse - Feeling Good (Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse) 

All worthy inclusions although I actually didn't mind Will Young's version of Light My Fire. Here's my take on a cover version that might be worth an inclusion on a more expanded best list. A few years back, Tom Jones resurrected his career with the release of the Reload album which contained 15 cover versions in collaboration with some pretty cool and credible musicians/bands. Although the release of 'Sexbomb' sold in millions and is the stand out track from the album, I always thought that his collaboration with Stereophonics on 'Mama Told Me Not To Come' was sensational. And as for Kelly Jones.. enough said, he can't do any wrong in my eyes. Sorry Three Dog Night, your original version was good, but the Welsh boyos whipped your arses on this one. 

See if you agree, and feel free to pass on other cover versions that are worth a mention....

SHAM-OOH NO....

Little bit of madness to report this week from Craven Cottage, the home of Fulham Football Club. The London club's owner, the flamboyant Mohammed Al-Fayed has just announced he wishes to erect a statue of his 'great friend' Michael Jackson outside the ground. Fans are a little erm.. 'unhappy' at the prospect of the King of Pop being celebrated outside their beloved Craven Cottage. Al-Fayed originally planned to put the statue within his Harrod's store but the tycoon sold his store last year for £1.5 billion. The statue reportedly features Michael Jackson in 'an iconic pose' with what appears to be underpants over his trousers. 
Fans are declaring a day of protest on April 3rd when they take on Blackpool at the Cottage and is also the day of the statue's unveiling. They state that Michael Jackson only visited the ground once and are claiming that the statue will make their club a laughing stock. 
I'm with the fans on this one. Michael Jackson was an American recording artist and perhaps a statue of him would be more befitting in an entertainment setting (the o2 arena?). Statues outside British football grounds are the preserve of footballing heroes from that particular club. Whatever next? Perhaps the new Indian owners at Blackburn Rovers unveiling Shilpa Shetty as a tribute to her contribution to Bollywood films? Rudolph Nureyev at Stamford Bridge? Charlie Cairoli at Blackpool FC? Or perhaps Judy Garland resplendent in her red Dorothy shoes alongside the Holy Trinity of Best, Law and Charlton at my beloved Old Trafford?   

  

WHO NEEDS A LEFT HAND ANYWAY?

Another typical drama-filled morning..  It started off with an awakener text from my mate Dave requesting my presence for breakfast at a local eaterie. The temptation of cooked English breakfast was too much for my slightly hangover-esque head from last night's work's night out so I duly agreed to get myself in the shower in pronto time and look reasonably human with a promise of being a witty and refreshed dining companion. We called in first to the local Post Office to collect my new Sky HD box and with a skip in my walk and Budweiser or two still worryingly on my breath, we headed in the direction of a cafe for a full English and a read of the newspapers. Dave being a very clever and very kind techie friend offered to fix up my Sky box and being a lazy-arsed inpatient girlie when cabling up things is mentioned, I of course agreed with the offer of buying breakfast as payment. 

Driving back to my house, we had the windows down and I'm daydreaming about high definition with my hands wafting outside in the warm breeze, when Dave does an impromptu 'up' press on he electric window button and traps my fingers in the process. In a high pitched sort of stifled scream with something on the lines of 'DAVE, DAVE, DAVE...FINGERS' the car came to a shuddering emergency stop with Dave and I propelled forward with my fingers, arm and shoulder blade going backwards. The look of horror on his face whilst realisation set in and the window released my crushed fingers was awful to see. With numerous apologies and back home with a numb, blackened finger swelling up to the size of a cumberland sausage and there's no lasting damage but a lot of laughs about stumps, typing my blog using only one hand and regret at not being able to knit my Royal Wedding characters for another week or two, and all was forgotten whilst Dave fixed up a million cables and installed the much-awaited Sky HD box to my newly purchased replacement LED tv. So an evening ahead of rest and relaxation in front of my televisual experience nursing a finger the size which is now the size of a tuna baguette. 

ROYAL WEDDING? KNIT ONE, PURL ONE....

If your invitation for the Royal Wedding hasn't yet landed on your doormat, don't despair. If like me, you're working on the day of the Royal Wedding and will miss the televisual event of the century, don't worry. Because you can now knit your own Royal characters and reenact the big day in the comfort of your own living room (or office). Forget the souvenir tea towels, plates, mugs and commemorative coins, because there's now a knitting kit containing patterns for ten characters from William and Kate's forthcoming wedding. The designs in Fiona Goble's (is that her real name?) book also contain extra patterns for 'guests' - that would be the Beckhams and Elton John/David Furnish and baby Zachary then? 

Knit the tissues, there'll be tears from the Queen, Camilla and Prince Edward...

The bride and groom. I love Kate's tiara, rouged cheeks and engagement ring. 

Yep, you can even knit Corgi for the vacant pageboy position...

.. the Archbishop of Canterbury Dr George Rowan looking resplendent though perhaps a little unholy when sharing mucky jokes with Prince Harry and comparing knob size...

No, it's not Elton John, but the REAL Queen complete with pearl necklace,  diamond brooch and one eye higher than the other.