Rik Mayall, Noble England and the World Cup

Rick, Rick..this is the voice of your conscience speaking. You killed Neil, didn't you....

I certainly wont have been the only one to shed a nostalgic tear or ten this week. A seemingly innocuous Monday that turned itself on its b'stard head and robbed us of the gorgeous, utterly irreplaceable Rik and left an entire generation shocked and gutted.
From Mad Gerald, Shut the bloody door! Rick, Neil, Neil, orange peel, Flash, Woof! to Richie, It's not a girl it's Eddie. It's not a girl it's Eddie,VD,VD,VD. He gave us a whole secret language to share and laugh.
I saw him several times over the years; standup at the Royal Court and many Bottom Live at the Liverpool Empire with Ade.Total joy, happy days.
"Foxy Stoat Seeks Pig."
(By the way, you two, have you tried Googling or Youtubing 'Bottom Hole, Digger, Burglary' etc. Of course you have! ) Cue kick in the knackers.
So, as England marches masochistically towards Saturday night, we grit out teeth, watch the riots and pray that we get a half decent ref. But I wont hold my breath. If last nights farce is anything to go by, we may as well pack our bags now and save a few quid.
Meanwhile, in the event of Rik not returning to us in the guise of Dannii Minogue as a topless go-go dancer in a bar full of mirrors, let's back his 'Noble England' for the charts on Sunday. If nothing more than to hear his lovely voice again.

GAS MAN!!!!!!!

God Bless and thank you Rik .XXXXXXXXXXX

Spooky Room!

Our box room was haunted.
No, it was. Honest.
Small, creepy and full of junk.
My sister and I were convinced that the weird scary stuff that happened in that Victorian semi radiated from that hub, that evil heart of the house.
There were the Prague marionette puppets that hung from our shared bedroom lofty ceiling. A grinning clown and a green witch straight from the Wizard of Oz. ( Clownie and Witchy-Poo, named with the creative genius that comes with childhood.) Strangling each other by night and all tangled up in the morning. There was the distinctive rustling of skirts we heard from the dark confines of  'under the duvet'. Televisions coming on in the night. Creeping footsteps creaking across the landing. Wolf shadows on the wall. A plate sized giant spider that terrorized my little brother by running up his leg. It hid till the end of Starsky and Hutch when it decided to jump and attack us as we went upstairs to bed. The animal lover that I am, I subsequently bashed it with my shoe and put it down the drain in the garden. Beware Liverpool, it's still down there somewhere.
We blamed it all on that little room with the old brass doorknob at the top of the stairs.
So much so, that, enterprising budding little Alan Sugars that we were, we decided to open our 'Spooky Room' to the general public.
Advertising flyers designed and placards with directing arrows in our hands, we sat patiently by the kerb for our first punters. Needless to say, we were a flop.
Some years later, in my slightly more grown-up adolescence, I was awarded my very own bedroom.
You've guessed it. I inherited the Spooky Room and no amount of pink paint could eradicate how pitch dark it was in the middle of the night.

P.S.Some people say there is no such thing as coincidence. Look below...

We put on Cloverfield from our planner, randomly. Look at the clocks. Goosebumps!

Coming soon...

New for 2014,


Introducing Bister...

Zombie gnomes, Walking Dead Monopoly and socks

See ya 2013...welcome 2014!


And so I wake out of hibernation, smash the sodding alarm clock, shoot dat damn wabbit and sit down to a warming plate of bunny curry.
7 Christmas shows, 6 tummy bugs, 5 family rows, 4 turkey breasts, 3 bottles of Baileys, 2 steaming hangovers and a bra that was meant to hold 3. ( if you have kids and do the panto you might get some of that!)

T.F.F.T! Bah humbug!

Only joking.

Christmas is well creepy, though. It makes you feel incredibly mortal, another year passing. Yet, at the same time you feel part of a bigger picture; a cell in the body of time.
Is it just me, when you 're wrapping the presents, dressing the table, cooking the food or making the beds, it feels like all the relatives of Christmas past are surrounding you, watching you, judging you?

"I never did it like that!"
"What's she doing now?"
"I'd have loved a microwave."
"What's M+S?"
"Well I never! Cauliflower cheese and Yorkshire Puds? And why is the gravy in a packet?"

We lost our beloved Nan this year. It was strange but not as sad as we anticipated. She has just joined the echelon of Christmas Dinner hostesses were, one day, (not too soon, I hope) I will be in the queue watching my great grand-daughter, tutting,

" Why the hell is she making duck a l'orange and spaghetti?!"

Adios Mallorca, Hello Manchester!

It never ceases to amaze me what difference 2 hours on a plane can make. One minute you can be relaxing by the pool, basking in blinding sunshine, listening to the sparkling turquoise waters crashing against the cliffs beneath you. You watch the surfers ride the waves into white sandy coves as you sip on a frosty beer.

Then 150 minutes later, back in Blighty and down to earth with a bang.( Figuratively speaking, not literally. Sorry, Ryanair, you guys were great. ) The icy wind freezing my bare legs and sandal clad toes and then it hits me. Yes, it's cold and miserable, and yes, it's come around far too quickly again but it's one of my favourite times of year...Halloween.


Think of a costume, buy tonnes of sweets, put up the decorations. Hoping that it doesn't rain or my Weeping Angel wings will get soggy. Don't blink!

Everybody is back in school after half-term and I need to get my spooky head on and finish my story. In the meantime, I have a Halloween party on Saturday night in Liverpool.

Years ago, at a family celebration, my auntie saw our deceased grandmother come down the stairs, smiling and mingling with guests. I wonder if this Halloween will bring out any ghostly party-goers.

Happy Trick or Treating!! X

Alfie & Autumn

Summer is truly over, as the rain and dark clouds outside my window rub my nose in the fact.

Time to knuckle down and get on with my new story..well, I started it many years ago but there is still a way to go. It is a prequel to "Week of 1000 Nightmares" and it's proving rather fun.

Trying to draw inspiration from my faves, I indulged in weeks of summertime reading. From James Herbert's conspiracy heavy "Ash" (Wow! What a bombshell to go out on)
to full immersion in my idol Agatha Crispy (as my sister affectionately calls her).

We finally got to see The Mousetrap, last year, at the Manchester Opera House, as it toured for the first time outside London. It was worth the wait and totally fab. This year it's "Go Back for Murder". So excited. Then I've a week in Majorca to soak up some sunshine before the winter gets fully installed.

But whilst I knuckle down and get on with some work, there are a few little stories I want to run by you. They are strange but true stories, happened to me or someone close to me. You'll probably think I'm bonkers but, hand on heart, I'm telling it how it happened. What you believe is up to you. I'll put one up every now and again as I get time to put them into words. Here's a little snippet to get going.

About eight years ago, before the kids started school, we were wending our way up a frosty M6 in early December.

A beautiful part of the world, the motorway cuts a rust and green canyon along the Pennines. Steep-sided clover scattered hills, speckled with the odd flock of sheep, it slices up two jewels of the North of England; the Lake District and the Yorkshire Dales.

Not a million miles from The Slaughtered Lamb and the Moors ( Beware the moon. And stick to the road..oops.) we ploughed through in a family convoy towards Penrith and our own little rent-a-cabin in the woods.

I am not a driver, Oh God, don't let me behind the wheel but as the other significant adult in the car, I kept one eye on the road whilst the other roamed the wonderful view as a decadent tourist. ( Curse of the Boss-eyed. Should have gone to Specsavers.)

What I saw that day has bothered me for years. It was probably nothing but now I'll never know.

To the side of this remote stretch of road, there was something lying very still, probably dead. Roadkill? I don't know. A weird discarded toy? A mutated animal? A Gremlin? Pinkish and grey, a tiny hairless monkey creature at the side of the road.

I regret we didn't stop to have a closer look.

So, if anybody threw a creepy doll thing out of their car all those moons ago, please let me know and put me out of my misery. Arrivederci and toodle pip. A X

Holiday weekend scare spectacular!

"Two more months till Halloween, Silver Shamrock..."

A little something, for free, to get you in the mood for the moon-soaked nights ahead..

                  Let the darkness commence...

Week Of 1000 Nightmares will be free this coming Sunday 25th August through to Monday 26th. Free times are governed by the following Amazon times..
Free promotions will start at approximately 12:00 AM Pacific Standard Time on the date specified & promotions will end at approximately 11:59 PM Pacific Standard Time on the date specified.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00DETC1OM

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! 
                                      Alfie  X