Press gang

The gallery of North Sefton Magistrates was heaving with hacks today because it was time for Geoff Dornan, Ormskirk's OAP rollerblader, to learn his fate.
Not since Stevie G got himself mixed up in a bar brawl has Southport seen so many film crews outside the court room.
I counted at least 10 journalists on the press bench taking notes - despite this Geoff nodded off during proceedings, I imagine all that skating would make you sleepy.
Anyway it didn't end well for Geoff, but he's vowing to appeal, so the media circus will reconvene at Liverpool Crown Court in the near future no doubt.
I do hope someone with a sense of humour will list Gerrard and Dornan for the same day - just to see if Geoff can pull in a bigger crowd than the Anfield ace.

New York, London, Milan, Paris and Southport

Napoleon took one look at Southport's Lord Street with its tree-lined boulevards, landscaped gardens and wrought iron fancies and thought to himself, "Zut alors! This is what Paris is missing!"

At least that's according to the pleasingly named architecture professor Quentin Hughes.

His theory is a lovely jigsaw of fact that adds Napoleon's time spent lodging just off Lord Street to his later destruction of medieval Paris to make way for the Champs Elysées etc to argue that Paris was based on Southport.

I'm all for it, let's see some Parisienne chic in Sefton.

For a start we'll be needing an annual fashion week - possibly with catwalk shows on the pier - to rival the four fashion capitals of the world. Admittedly that sounds a tall order until you think of the wealth of golf couture we boast in Britain's classic resort. Plaid shorts and tartan tank tops anyone?

Then there's Hesketh Bank - surely more than a match for Paris' Left Bank culture hub with it's annual steam rallies, village shows and Pumpkin festivals?

We'll also need to see some metropolitan rudeness, so I'm afraid the charmingly polite Campaign for Courtesy and the Ambassador Awards will have to go in favour of the Gallic shrug.

The indigenous WAG population should ensure a suitable level of glamorous, boutique frequenting females to give the whole endeavor the necessary je ne sais quoi.

Really, I have no idea why the similarities haven't struck me sooner.

Curiouser and curiouser!

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland was always my favourite book as a kid - I wonder if it influenced my career choice?

Anyway, I only mention it because of late I've been puzzled by several things and I'm curious to know what you make of them all.

This clown who drove onto the live rails at Birkdale - how come she didn't get electrocuted?

When did Eastenders get so fantastically fearless? I really hope they win a TV Bafta for the paedophile storyline. Patsy Palmer's proved herself as an actress in my book.

When politicians start blog bitching about your reports what's the best response? Maintain a dignified silence, or put them back in their box with a curt riposte?

Sister Act the musical - OMG! I know! - is opening in May but on hearing the news my first thought was "why has it taken so long?" To which end - can we please see Highway to the Danger Zone -Top Gun the Musical, The Bodyguard - Live!, and Pretty Woman - the stage show in the West End before next Christmas? Although, I suspect that this lot might not approve of that last suggestion.

This is still in beta, but it's such a lovely idea I thought I'd share it - as a pre-Christmas gift, if you will.

Crash! Bang! Wallop!

Hello blogosphere - it's been a while, hasn't it?

Don't worry, I haven't been depriving the world of my premier league prose while this blog has lain dormant - and to prove it here are the highlights of the past few weeks.

This cast of mad , bad and dangerous to know characters in Merseyside and Sefton has filled up my notepad and kept me (and hopefully the readers) entertained.

The Ormskirk potato farmer was a particular joy - bangers and mash anyone?
It turned out that although he'd given the impression that the "bomb" was safe it transpired he'd put off calling in the MOD to find out for certain until after we took the pics - meaning that I'd sent our snapper out into the field to photograph a potentially explosive landmine.
I probably owe that man a drink.

They haven't all been nuts though - this family will warm the cockles of your heart and make you believe in true love.