So Thursday morning and our puppy Benny the Morkie was on his way down the vets. Full of the joys of puppyhood little did he know what we had in store for him. He had spent the night before living his last life a full puppy. I let him have his favourite soft football to give some loving to and one that has had the kids saying “Benny has got his lipstick out” Not content with that I let him have a last night on the tiles though it was all too much for him as pictured below.

Benny The Morkie

So Thursday afternoon and the return of Benny. Everything had gone fine and he was lifted back into ours from the car now the proud supporter of the cone of shame ! Middle sprog Charlotte (7) asked what has the dog had done. I explained that he had had his little furry balls cut off to which she replied “Why don’t you get yours cut off” ouch ! She then asked why had the dog had it done. To which I put my “dad” head on and clearly explained it was to calm him down. This was met with “You need yours cutting off” I wonder if she had read my Hamburg blog ? So Benny as expected wasn’t quite himself and I posted a few tweets with the hashtag #RIPBennysballs The next morning Benny had picked up a bit but more worrying was the fact that Charlotte again repeated that I should get my balls cut off !! Oh dear was this to turn into a family campaign against me. Thankfully when Mrs Fay had her third c-section which I readily admit in the day of equal opportunities is just as painful as getting a footy in the bollocks. I hear the collective outcry. Well women you have never had a footy in the bollocks just like I have never given birth so we will leave it at that. Anyway back to C-Section III and as I was explaining Mrs Fay had her thing done, whatever that is, something to do with tubes I think thus preserving my crown jewels forever. So kids you can campaign all you want but #Faysballsarestaying A few days has passed now and Benny is as mad as ever but with the added bonus of having a big cone on his head thus causing more trouble than ever. I can’t even take him on walks but I continued the habit of walking but minus the dog and therefore becoming the weird middle aged man in the park walking on his own ! The rascal even managed to get his cone off today and luckily enough our near 3 year old was on the ball (or lack of balls) and informed us he had escaped. After an impromptu game of The Crystal Maze me and the eldest managed to get the cone back on before the three minute game finished with an automatic lock in and Benny licked his balls. The cone of shame got me thinking that you know all these identikit kiddas decked out all in black with one or two hands down the front of their pants. Well we could have the scrotum police and after getting caught with your hand down your pants for the third time you have to wear cones on your hand making it impractical to put yer hands down yer trackies.

Cone of shame

So tonight is the eve of the Port Sunlight 10k. Mrs Fay is out on the ale and all three kids are out of the house. It was just too good an opportunity not to have a beer in the house. I only have four in, the race is at 11am and it not like its the olympics. It also might relax me the night before the race. Them four excuses are enough reason to crack a bottle open so Corona it is then. I will report back on the race tomorrow. Wish me luck and if I get a PB I have revolutionised the training routine of athletes well overweight middle aged men.


Fay x x x x x x


A Cultural Review Of Hamburg

So after 46 long days I was on the train at Aigburth for 08:28 along with the rest of the Monday morning commute. Though this time I was heading for the pub. Such was my excitement for a bevy I had to wait a tantalising 15 mins until 9am to have a Desperado but after so long off the grog what was a few more minutes eh ! So after a few more beers the minibus eventually turned up on what was now to be known as “Freddie” time or 40 mins behind Greenwich Mean Time. We got to Manchester Airport in time for a quick pint and then it was on the Easyjet flight to Hamburg.

Straight to the hotel and no messing about straight out onto the ale we had discovered local team F.C St Pauli  were playing at home to SpVgg Greuther Fürth. This was the league below the German top flight and it was a lovely compact modern stadium and the final side of the ground behind one goal was just starting to be built. We soon discovered that the home end was a sell out buy we did manage to get tickets for the away end. We had some time to kill before the game in what was turning into a chilly German night and ended up going into a very small and cosy local St Pauli bar where I discovered that German Becks doesn’t taste the same as the shite we get over here and is also in proper 330ml size bottles. On getting into the ground the Germans are civilised enough to let you take a beer into the stands and I even got to keep my plastic St Pauli beer mug for which I still owe the kitty 1 Euro 50. By now the temperature was falling and a bitter wind was making it seem nearer -10c. Lets put it this way when you went the toilet it was like walking into a sauna. The hypnotic beats of the away fans drums has us dancing away as their “ultra” singing section was not far away from our seats (We stood all match anyway) and the were in full voice and flag waving for all of the game. For the record SpVgg Greuther Fürth won 1-0 which keeps St Pauli rooted to the bottom of the table. We stopped off another St Pauli fan bar and in the back was a large room with three very pissed men in. Our safety in numbers meant we has a small game of footy with a sponge ball and there were numerous dart boards which I put up my European title and remained unbeaten once again. One final bar for the night and an expensive round of shorts was the rounded off with a German kebab and the chips I tried were shite. Lucky enough my reserve stash of a pack of McCoys and a Biscuit Boost came in handy. An earlyish 1am finish but we had been on the pop since 9am and a good nights sleep set me up for day two.

St Pauli vs SpVgg Greuther Fürth

Breakfast seen the disappointment of not even a jarg hot dog impression for a sausage so it was a crusty cob and butter and a jam butty to set me up for the day. On the plus side there were plenty of small packs of Nutella’s to have off as presents for my kids. First up on day two and a walk down to the docks and we found the tour bus to go on which has now become a tradition since we went to Edinburgh for my 40th. So we were all sat at the back of the bus with our headphones on for translation on an hour tour of Hamburg. What a beautiful city it is (See pic by the docks below) and some very expensive houses on the route we took. There was also an overhead railway. Imagine if only we had one running for a very long length of the River Mersey. How useful for locals and also a tourist attraction. I mean knocking one down would be very short sighted wouldn’t it !! After the tour and getting dropped off at the docks we found a lovely German pub off the tourist track and settled down there for a good few beers and laughing all the way which normally means somebody is getting ripped by the others. Time to grab some scran and a Burger King which was one of the best meals I have has whilst being on what was now my 8th February trip. Whilst in BK one of the lads came out with a statement “Speaking as a gay man don’t knock rimming until you have tried it” hastily trying to backtrack trying to put it into some kind of context of a statement made by a friend who had came out who the gang knew. It was a bolt from the blue but didn’t arse us one bit and we broke into the Diana Ross classic “I’m coming out” on several occasions thereafter.


So as darkness fell on the night it was time to head off to the Reeperbahn which we has just got to the edge of the night before for a scran. We paid homage to The Beatles and a visit to the Star Club once was. It was here we had one of our many Ali Ingle pictures which harks back from a gig of his just before shrimp when we were encouraged to don masks of him. He had just recently played Hamburg and we advised him we would be taking his masks back to Hamburg in February (See pic below) One of the next bars became rememberable for becoming the host of the first Top Trumps world championship and that is all about I can say on the topic as the top trumps being played are subject to being sued for ! Having ploughed euros into most dodgy German jukeboxes we had come across we came to one bar where the owner just overrode our choices with a selection of his heavy metal choices. He looked like he had had a hard life drinking so who were we to argue with him and he did get a group singsong of “The Wall” by Pink Floyd right and what might have been his girlfriend had one of the lads off with a comically timed quote regarding Viagra. Onto the tourists traditional Irish Bar were topics for discussion were taking a turn for the worse and plummeted to the depths of armbands, liver and pig being mentioned to being the nearest substitute for you know what !!!

Ali Ingle does the Star Club in Hamburg


So there was an eerie mist descending over the depths of the Reeperbahn as the clock turned towards midnight. Walking past some of the ladies of the night one of the said to the more senior of our party in his 60’s “Hello grandad do you want to give me some pocket money” which made us all chuckle. Onto another bar and another jukebox and this time the dancing and singing spilled back onto the Reeperbahn to songs such as “Our House” and “Nightfever” but the highlight of the night was “Relax” by Frankie Goes To Hollywood. Picture the scene 11 drunken men ranging from 27 to 63 all dancing and singing away to “Relax” on the Reeperbahn. Normally its the tourists taking pictures of the ladies of the night. Such was our commotion of fun dancing and singing the girls were taking pictures of us. Perhaps we should of charged them. We did have one aborted dance when we spotted some police and despite our fun filled nature we scurried back into the pub and the police drove past not arsed with a smile on their face. With a scran on the Reeperbahn on the way home it was just on 3am when we all fell into the hotel.

So the final day and a longish wait until the flight home. The thirst for drinking had evaporated as we headed down the docks for soft drinks and some scran on the Hard Rock Cafe and when I just ordered chips the fella in an amazed voice said “Seriously” errrr yer just some chips please ??? People were feeling the pace after two days and were resorting to Ice Creams and later on massages in the Airport. Thats Airport for clarification and not spending some pocket money the night before. One of the lads was on his what seemed like 4th or 5th pair of shoes for a two night trip ??? It was time for the short flight home and what was another great February cultural review. Originally most the lads were from a school in Liverpool  (The name of the school is withheld to protect the guilty) sadly due to school politics not one is left in that school and a few have left teaching altogether. Good teachers as well, shafted by modern school politics. I am still withholding the name of the school though to protect the guilty. On arrival at Manchester Airport Brendan Rodgers was waiting outside the arrival doors and despite us all being reds he was in what could be only be described as a very dodgy looking brown hooded tracksuit top complete with gleaming teeth and a new young blonde on his arm. Midlife crisis me thinks.

So roll on 2016 and who knows where the venue will be. Im sure many moments have been left in a druken haze in Hamburg and no mention of secret eating or eyes not being recognised by the new passport system in Manchester Airport.

Farewell Hamburg airport


Fay x x x x x x

50 Shades Of Fay

So after all the fuss about the book this week 50 Shades Of Grey is finally released in the cinema. Mrs Fay asked me if I would like to go and see it with her as it might errrrr you know. To which I replied I can get hold of a copy of The Adventures Of Swedish Lesbians Volume 7 or other such titles if she wants and save wasting cash on the pictures in these times of austerity as by the time I have got a hot dog, popcorn and drink that much has been spent its the equivalent of the GDP of Chad. I wonder how many women will whilst watching the film in the cinema will wind their partners up by suggestively eating their hotdogs ??? Having obviously not read the book you do get to hear snippets about it in the media and it seems that local hardware stores are bracing themselves for a spike in visits once the film is released. So my cunning plan would be to spend the £40 saved from watching The Adventures Of Swedish Lesbians 7 instead of going the pictures and take a visit to B&Q. Been planning on going for ages as I heard they have a special offer on plastic ties, 3 foot length metal chains and industrial padlocks, oooops I mean a bulb for the bathroom, new bin for the kitchen and some plants. It seems that you also need to set up a “safeword” if you wish to re-create the film. I was thinking “stop” might be a good enough word but decided to go for a more artistic “sausages” instead ?? So with it being valentines day today and yes I did get Mrs Fay a card and a suitcase but I don’t think she got the correct use for the suitcase ;0)

So tonight the kids will be getting lashed in bed, hmmm I better change the word lashed there. The Kids will be going to bed early and I will light the candles. I won’t let her have the heating on twice in a day, them bills are high enough already. Then its time to create the magic of 50 Shades Of Fay. Using my newly acquired gear Mrs Fay ties me up on the couch. She then dances around the room with a smile on her face that I have not seen for a long time. Next she puts gaffer tape over my mouth. Wow this is going places. She the slowly and suggestively walks towards me. My eyes open a bit wider with anticipation. She leans forward and whispers in my ear “would you like me to put something special on the TV” I can only nod my head due to the tight exciting restrictions of the gaffer tape. Mrs Fay’s smile gets wider and wider. She again whispers to me, “Do you want me to tell you whats coming on ?” Again I nod my head like a kid being offered free sweets in a sweet shop. Mrs Fay then plants a kiss on my cheek and says “Here we go I have six episodes of Emmerdale to catch up on my Sky Plus” I let of a muffled cry but the gaffer tape is doing its job. She then leaves the room and comes in with a glass of wine and a box of chocolates. I try my best to say the safe word “Sausages” but can only mumble and taste gaffer tape. Ah well been well and truly had off again. Might as well settle down for Emmerdale-athon. I wonder how Mr Wilkes and Amos are doing those days ?

50 Shades of Fay


So day 45/46 with no ale. I will be reporting to Wetherspoons in Liverpool town centre at 9am on Monday for a Desperado and breakfast as I head off to Hamburg for three days and the next blog will be one more of the famous Cultural reviews “A Cultural Review of Hamburg”


Fay x x x x x x


You know your getting old when……………………

So you know your are getting old when hmmm well it could be lots of things but this is about change. No not that “change” when Mrs Fay will be telling me to “shut that window” “close that window” I am sure there will be blogs on that in the future god help me ! No this is about change you notice. Now if I was to give some words of wisdom to somebody who thinks they know it all when they are eighteen it would be to tell them about change. Your life changes so much over say a 10 year period, sometimes in ways you couldn’t dream of and for better and worse ! But now is not to get philosophical now is to mention the massive change I have seen that this week occurred from out of the blue.

Exhibit one the classic white nipple.

Seen below on the right of the picture is the classic 70’s and 80’s Liverpool street light. These are the ones I remember using for cricket wickets and were white plastic lights shaped like a nipple. Not that they really look like a nipple but that was what the 8 year old me thought as they illuminated the streets of Liverpool. When I moved to live with my nan in 1992 the classic white nipple light was located right outside my bedroom. 1992 onwards was all about trying to smuggle nipples upstairs past my nan.

70's 80's Liverpool street light










Exhibit two the Tango light and Exhibit three the new LED light

Sometime in the 1990’s whilst living with my nan the classic nipple was sadly dropped in favour of the “Tango” orange light. I can’t remember when this change took place as the mid 90’s was a blurrrrr to me man and indeed I might have come home from The 051, Cream or Garlands and been in such a state that I thought the light was orange but indeed it was white. Just say no kids ! This turned my bedroom into a lovely orange glow a bit like those shitty electric fires you had in the 80’s which must have cost a fortune to run but it was OK as your mum and dad were fiddling the lekky ! You know, the method when you get a camera negative………………ooops better stop there eh !

**** MANWEB disclaimer my parents are dead now so don’t come chasing them *****

So when I left my nans in 2002 the bastard orange light was still shining into my bedroom and I still missed the classic nipple, though now engaged to be married I was to inherit my own set.

Fast forward to 2012 and it was back to my nans house and the return of the Tango bedroom with the orange light still going strong and with only a set of blinds the orange glow in the bedroom was one similar to a lovely Liverpool lass with a jarg tan overdose when she walks out the front door ready for a night in town.

But the revolution has come and yesterday the reign of the Tango light was over and a new funky LED street light had been installed. Never had I been so keen for daylight to end to rush upstairs with Mrs Fay and lie on the bed and switch the bedroom lights off. Well not since our honeymoon in Sorrento. Sadly Mrs Fay wasn’t in so I went to bed and switched the lights off for some solo fun (To look at the street lights before you ask) and lo and behold there was now just twinkle of white light in the room.  A massive improvement of the light coming into the bedroom compared to the Tango light and dare I say it from the classic nipple. But the classic nipple design is still my fave much like my love for Art Deco buildings.

So there you have have it, you know your old when you notice you are on your third generation of street lights.

You know you old when you can write a blog on the history of suburban Liverpool street lights 1970 – 2015.

And finally you know your old and a boring bastard when you put a comparison picture up of the Tango light compared to the new LED light

I have seen the light.

Peace and I have seen the light (or less of it) , praise Joe Anderson about the only thing he has ever got right.

Fay x x x x x x


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