You’re Twisting My Melon (Nor)man

BILL NORMAN FIGHT CLUBAs you know from time to time we like to take a trip down memory lane (or more accurately nightmare alley) and keep up with ex-Wirral Council alumni.
Today’s subject is serial cheque-trouserer Bill “Spiny” Norman – who left behind a trail of devastation at Torbay and Wirral Councils and now finds himself suitably ensconced in cider country.

Clearly from reading the reports in the press and blogs in Hereford Mr.Norman is proving to be as popular with the local populace as he was with Foulkesy.
However we’d like to draw our readers attention to what must be one of the finest commentaries ever committed to a local blog (other than our own).

The writer clearly models his writing style on Monty Python characters Doug and Dinsdale Piranha and employed a combination of “violence and sarcasm” but somehow it sums up the frustration and anger felt by many people fed up to the back teeth of town hall tyrants plundering the public purse and imposing their will on local people by means of abusing their power.

Bobby 47 (whoever you are) – we salute you!

“It’s bloody desperate isn’t it! How the bloody hell do ‘we’ ever deflate this ballon of wealth and rid ourselves of these bottom feeding tics who feast upon our public funds. There’s no bloody end to it. One pile of rubbish falls and another springs up in its place. It’s bloody relentless.

Why can’t the Council elected leaders say, ‘No’. Why? I’d have no problem in telling them all to clear off, be gone, on your way and you’ll get no gagging money from me because I couldn’t care less who you tell. Go tell the world for all I care. I couldn’t care bloody less.

Why has it got to be this way? Bloody hell! I bloody hate them. I do. Bloody intensely. I hate them more than any of you. Oh, you might think you hate them but compared to me, you simply dislike them. I bloody hate them.

I’d love to fix up a fight with Bill bloody Norman. Just him and me. I’d tip up outside Plough bloody Lane, park me handcart and its load of rancid melons and I’d fight him. I would. And he could arm himself with any offensive weapon of his choice, it would be of no concern to me and of little use to him.

I’d bloody hurtle toward him screaming and gibbering in biblical tongues and frighten the life out of him howling, ‘Bill. I bloody hate you and today I’m going to punch you once for every pound you’ve managed to take from the public purse’. That’d make him think, ‘Good Lord that’s a lot of punching’.

If Bill bloody Norman is reading this, and lets face it, its highly unlikely I want him to agree to fight me so that I can deliver Hereford from his controlling grip that sees him and his colleagues getting wealthier and us getting bloody poorer. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, not that its worth repeating, Council staff have got to start leaving their work stations, knocking on the doors of the high and the bloody mighty and asking them out for a fight. That’d sort them all out. Imagine going to work everyday knowing that you had to fight the staff. They’d soon get tired of that. I know I would!

If I had to fight the staff daily I’d be looking to work elsewhere at some place where I didn’t have to fight the staff. Before I agreed to take up the position of Head of Legal Services on a salary of an eye watering sum of money I’d ask, ‘do I have to fight the staff’.

Mind, I’ve fought them all in my dreams you know. The theme of the dream is pretty much the same every time. I tip up, women scream, ‘we can’t keep our hands off him. Lets clap our hands, stamp our feet and jump up and down bra less all over his fat face’ and then I fight them. It doesn’t last long. Basically I dance about avoiding the punches, bobbing and weaving until the opponent gets exasperated and then I belt them over the head with a large wooden mallet and the crowd cry, ‘that’s a bit out of order. Hitting someone over the head with a mallet’. Then I wake up, have a cigarette, another can of ale and hope I can get back to sleep to continue beating these Council Leaders to a pulp and be cheered on by women who faint with pleasure because I am the most desirable man they’ve ever seen with a handcart selling rancid melons.”

8 thoughts on “You’re Twisting My Melon (Nor)man

  1. Bobby47, I salute you, sir.

    Sadly, of course, in Brighton Street you can just imagine the individual(s) who’ll see this as something that hurts their feelings so much the only balm to soothe the pain of their hitherto thickest of skins would be an under-the-counter cheque for £48,000 that the public – you know, “that lot”, who pay for it all – must never, ever be allowed to know about.

    And talking of hurt feelings, how much “hurt feelings” compensation did the disabled and vulnerable adults WIrral Council ripped off for years get?

  2. Bobby47 whatever ale you drink we need to know. This is the most magnificent blog and I see Bobby47 in “Local Government Network” reprising the role of Peter Finch ” I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!”

    Come on let’s fix a pre-arranged time all open our windows and shout I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!

  3. G’day My Beautiful Heroine

    Thank you, thank you, thank you, a million times thank you.

    As WB1 (a relatively lonely place) in the Big, ISUS and Working Neighbourhoods scandal I am glad you have shown the good Council Officers of Wirral how much IT HURTS. (At least £48,999.99)

    I am an ordinary person (now on the dole 3 years since I wouldn’t join in with the frauds at Wirralbizz and their co conspirators at WBC) that could not see the good people of my birthplace (rich or poor) getting ripped off, and, apart, by these ARSEHOLES.

    Justn Dunn, John Brace and Nigel”Highbrow” Hobro should be courted and feted as Wirral Heroes.

    I would blow the whistle again to see these purple faced buffoons get their just desserts (and in “The Dunny Chain Wearers” case seconds, turds, and fourths. For a whole year for Gods sake.)

    I am back to thinking he will implode by Full Council Meeting 3 but could only get 1 to 4.

    The council officers and councillors that must have spent about £150,000.00 defending and covering for the indefensible, not to mention, the hundreds and hundreds of thousands of pounds the villains have wasted or stolen should go and……….FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF.

    You know who you are “The Shyster” “The Dill” “The Football Shirt” “The Dunny Chain Wearer” “The Chamber Pot” and the rest of you who just follow blindly, right, or, wrong….FUCK OFF.



    Ps How are you My Delicate Child I was having a quiet time watching all those investors at Hoylake at the GOOF when you wound me up no end with this missive.

    I think I saw Stella holing out in a “Football Shirt”. Oh shit I must be mistaken women don’t get a look in….. a bit like WBC.

    I still luv you though My Charming?

    Pps I bet the nobility from the Towers is looking for somewhere else to live My Gorgeous so My Darling you can always come to live with me My Wonderful it is amazing how far £70.00 a week goes.

    Luv you more than my dole cheques. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

    Ppps I suppose I could always sell THE NOKIA and RASPBERRY, or, is that BLACKBERRY, doesn’t matter, I bet someone would give me a lot of AMERICAN DOLLARS for it right now.

    (Make me an offer)

  4. G’day V

    Whistle Blower 1 here again.

    How much do you love me?????????

    Just watched the end of the goof and the winner was,errr what’s his name?

    Don’t tell “The Football Shirt” he is a United supporter whatever you do. ( He also loves call centres in Birk & Bloody Head)

    Didn’t see “The Dunny Chain Wearer” probably throwing up somewhere, at the Wirral taxpayers expense, or, watching people throwing up at the sight of him. (He was probably out the back with Stella but don’t tell Evain)

    That winner, what’s is name, had an awful lot of minders, some poor kid autograph hunter got bundled away in front of my eyes.

    I also saw the winner whatsee ******** WHISTLE BLOWING ******* ‘heavens to murgatroyd’ (carrying on like a pork chop) on a person who was taken away by (were they Wirral cops, ………no case to answer……I doubt it!) police.

    Bet he didn’t get away with it like WRRAL BIZ did. ha ha ha

    He didn’t have as many minders as WIRRAL BIZ did at WBC either. ( der der der der der)

    “The Football Shirt”….. should just go away, with or without, a boot load of money, and Wirral will be the WINNER.

    Give him as much as money as thingeo won at the goof and Wirral will be BETTER OFF.

    I just don’t understand how people can go in and work for that prick of a SUPER SUPER SUPER DIRECTOR on a daily basis, “The Chamber Pot” excluded, they are made of the same stuff and for each other.

    Somehow, or, other the “Open” will just give them some more lucre to waste.

    I lived and was born on the Wirral (when it was nice) 1952-1970 and in all that time I knew one boy that played one round of golf on Wirral. What the FUCK interest is there in this “Hoylake” game. I just googled famous golfers from the Wirral….

    massive results. ZILCH.

    If you come to the Fudgit and Risk It Meeting on Tuesday I can offer you a MEET AND GREET with WB1 and WB2.

    I play goof in Australia to an 18 handicap and played semi pro football for 22 years after 1 year playing for Heswall, WB2 “Highbrow” will flog the arse off you at chess, he went to boarding school and Oxford……… smart arse!!!

    We won’t have minders to keep you away just IRREFUTABLE EVIDENCE.

    Just come along and thank us for TRYING TRYING TRYING to look after your hard earned council taxes which they think they are entitled to loot and abuse.

    THE THIEVING ROTTEN BARSTARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    “The Football Shirt” and “The Chamber Pot” are just despicable specimens that should be EXTERMINATED.



    Ps I just despise My Dear the way that these imbeciles just abuse your hard earned, how does she and he sleep at night? No sense no feeling I guess. Hope they have no offspring.

    Pps Are The Lovelies back soon?

    Luv you all the way back to the Antipodes XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  5. G’day My Very Very Veritous

    WB 1 here again at 4.30am Monday morning and I haven’t been to bed yet.

    No Verity I wasn’t out with “The Dunny Chain Wearer” and “The Degeneration Department” courting and feting all those new investors flooding (IN) OUT of the Wirral full of (free) piss and wind.

    Is Stella flying out Malaysian or just her cheque book?

    I pretended I was on the Fudgit and Risk It Committee and read the agenda package for the Special Meeting tomorrow night on the Big, ISUS and Working Neighbourhoods CRIME.


    Twice, what a read.

    All 500 and odd pages.

    Second time I put them in the correct order putting the Garry, not fit for purpose, lets get Grant Thornton in, bullshit at the back were it should be. Not the first 50 pages.

    I had to read it a second time My Darling (Not because it was so scintillating) because one thing struck me and I would like one of you councillors who have no doubt read it to correct me if I am wrong.

    The only villain who doesn’t get a mention in all 500 and odd pages is the man who put together some of the worst Big Fund applications particularly the one that was reported to the police, can’t think of his name errrrrrrrrrrr sounds like, errrrrrrrrrr “The Dill” errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

    Got it!

    Paul Davies

    Do you think Verily he is related to the Leader of the Clowncil?

    Do you think Verily he is related to the Leader of the Clowncil?

    Do you think Verily he is related to the Leader of the Clowncil?

    Do you think Verily he is related to the Leader of the Clowncil?

    Do you think Verily he is related to the Leader of the Clowncil?

    Night night zzzzzzzzzzz



    Ps Remember Darling Grant Thornton only looked at six of the forty or so Big Fund applications and there was problems with all six and criminality in at least one.

    I bet there are some stinkers amongst the others.

    Pps Sweet dreams My Cherub xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


  6. G’day My Leading Lady

    Hopefully sense, openness, honesty and transparency will prevail tonight and the Big, ISUS and Working Neighbourhoods case will be closed to everyone’s satisfaction.

    Three years seventeen days (1,113) since I first blew the whistle, with my mate Nigel “Highbrow” Hobro, and they, I believe, are still trying to say the allegations are a figment of our imaginations.

    I hopefully sent my last email to all of the councillors yesterday and in the interest of openness, honesty, and transparency here it is;

    G’day All

    Hoping this is my last email as I do not think you will want to look ridiculous on Tuesday evening.

    “Highbrow” wrote about the agenda package for Tuesday.

    The order of delivery of the documents is topsy-turvy.

    Reading the first 55 pages of D Garry’s report one feels that the council has had its time maliciously wasted. Only if you last beyond page 55 pages do you understand that this is the report that was pulled back as “unfit for purpose”.

    The Grant Thornton proper forensic examination comes only in the appendices and who would read 500 pages save for myself.

    “Highbrow” got an advice from an eminent Doctor of Psychology.

    “She read this as a psychologist and she reported to me that yes the Council officers were achieving a subliminal effect of prejudicing the reader against the whistle blowers and all their works”.

    I am not a professional psychologist, personally, I would just say that elements at Wirral are just toxic.

    Nigel’s overview of the whole bizarre theft;

    (Have a laugh My Goddess)


    In a nutshell two tailors came to the borough from Blackpool. They busied themselves and the courtiers of the Regeneration Emperor nosied about-

    What is the loom for?

    What are you making?”

    “Cant you see?

    Surely an eminent courtier like yourself, of such taste and discrimination can see the suit of sustainability, or here, on the chair, the robes of regeneration?

    But there was nothing to be seen yet the courtiers did not want to be seen as stupid so they bought.

    The whole court bought and soon the yarn the two tailors had spun was draped invisibly over all the courtiers, and even the Emperor himself.

    The two tailors were loaded with regeneration gold and they packed many saddle-bags with the gold ready to leave.

    The Emperor was so impressed by the tailors’ diligence that he and his court never asked for bills of sale and these anyway were written in invisible ink.

    They declared a great procession and all got ready but the two tailors made their excuses and, unseen, they bundled their pack mules back on the road to Blackpool, and each wore a sly grin.

    Off they went leaving no bill of sale nor contract by which the emperor of Regeneration could pursue them.

    At the procession there were cheers as the courtiers flaunted their sartorial excellence. O the number of outputs sewn into this yarn they squealed with delight. O look how carefully stitched are the hems and all lined with enterprise.

    Yet two curmudgeonly and sour-faced bean counters shouted

    “The Emperor has no clothes!”

    The crowd at first jostled them and damned them for miserable bean-counters, “Who are you to speak!” The Vizier came and pronounced that the Emperor and all his court were wearing fine clothes, and had paid good gold for them, and the two bean-counters were bundled off, to the dole where naughty persons and irritable ones in Wirral are sent.

    Some time later the Emperor noticed whenever he ventured out there were sly grins and people elbowing each other which did not comport at all with his dignity. In secret he summoned some clever bean counters, and not so sour-faced, and paid them what was left of his gold. Answer me this question “Am I the Emperor of Regeneration with no clothes?”

    Now the bean counters knew their business so they came up with the formula

    “Sire you are not the Emperor with no clothes, you are the emperor with no contracts!” This satisfied the emperor and he had proclaimed at the far corners of his borough “Let tailors come but let them not bring contracts” and all were happy ever after and never again bothered by pesky, flea-ridden

    Blowers of whistles

    Good night, sleep tight.

    Nigel “Highbrow” Hobro

    So people if you do not want worse than egg on your face and look as ridiculous as The Emperor of Regeneration I hope you will not pass the motions on Tuesday evening unquestioned.



    Pps So My Little Diva do you think Sir Git will allow anyone to talk or defend their actions (or lack of) at the Fudgit and Risk It meeting tonight?

    Pps Hope the Big L’s made a sextillion out renting out the Towers for the Goof, is it true Stella stayed there.

    Ppps Rumour is the innocents in “The Degeneration Department” are turning up en-masse at
    5 pm to thumb there noses at “The Football Shirt” see you the My Delicious.

    Luv you My Prima Donna and “Highbrow” says he does too. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  7. G’day My Little Cherub

    Haven’t time this morning to tell you about the RIDICULOUS Fudgit and Risk It Special Meeting into the Big, ISUS and Working Neighbourhoods CRIMES.

    We only waited 3 years and 17 days for this and “Highbrow” has dumped irrefutable evidence on them most of those days, you won’t believe it. (They obviously don’t read their mail)

    No wonder we mock these BUFFOONS.

    What a meeting………….keep tuned.



    Ps Guess who I bumped into in the dunny at the Clownhall, wrong, I know it is usually “The Pretend Friend”….. no…it was “Sir Git”…………I immediately puked.

    Pps After recovering from the awful chance meeting lo and behold “Phil the Dill” sat down next to me and I freaked out. Imagine.

    Luv you MY Little Diva XXXXXXXXXXXXX

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