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Gordo thwarted once more

Even bouncers cannot stop the lovelorn portly one as he bunks into the Grosvenor VIP do at Chavasse Park

Published on October 4th 2008.


Gordo thwarted once more

GORDO was on the couch at home. His thoughts were wandering, but not far. Chicken pie in the fridge. Joanne Jennings, his one true love, over in Liverpool One.

The green eyed goddess was hosting a party to celebrate the second phase opening of Liverpool One and its restaurants. Two nights before Gordo's editor, Angie Sammons, was at a do where Joanne had been whispering in her ear.

“Tell Gordo to come on Thursday,” she urged. “Tell him I miss him desperately.”

Angie noticed that Rita “Razors” Rowe, the mad Mancunian ex-journo, now gruppenfuhrer of Mason Williams, the Manchester PR company handling the Liverpool One account, was ear-wigging all this. A little known fact is that Razors has also been employed by Gordo's fag at Eton, Gerry "Twitchy" Grosvenor, to ensure that Gordo and Joanne never get together.

“Of course”, carries on the Irish Goddess. “You come as well, and bring a photographer with you”.

Back on the couch, Gordo decides that the chicken pie will have to wait, Twitchy's canapes have a good reputation, after all, and Gordo's suit had come back from the cleaners with most of the chewing gum removed from the trouser zip. The boy was going to look sharp.

Gordo meets up with Angie outside a very big and very posh tent in the middle of Chavasse Park. The rain is lashing down, but the sun is shining in Gordo's heart.

“Ha ha ha,” hears Gordo, looking round to see where the laughter was coming from. “You don't think you're coming in here do you, Fatty?”

It's Spencer the doorman, aka 'Four Knuckles”. “I have strict instructions not to let you in without a wrist band. You and the rest of the media scum can go over to Los Igloos and get a free pint. But only one.”

“But”, stutters Gordo, “Joanne... "

“But nothing, Gordo. Not on list, no wristband, no entry. Bugger off.” He's a sport, that Spencer. Good looking lad though.

Gordo peers in longingly through a tent flap at the smiling, happy throngs. “I bet even the Oldham Echo's in there,” he sniffs, rain dripping off his nose and down his shirt collar.

Gordo traipses over the square to Las Iguanas, a south American restaurant, goes through the doors and asks where the Media Centre is. “Upstairs, it's the door next to the bogs.” Appropriate that, thinks Gordo.

Upstairs, Gordo is waiting patiently for his free pint of San Miguel. Suddenly, he shivers. It's that feeling that a tethered goat must get just before a panther rips its throat out. The panther in this case is Razors, standing next to him, smiling. “Hello Gordo, how nice of you to come over and see us.”

If Gordo had any hair, it would be standing on end.

“Err, hello Raze....er, Rita,” Gordo stammers. It's a good job the chewing gum is still there.

“Now, have you had your free pint, you lovely boy?” she growls, playfully.

"Just getting it thank you Rita,” meekly answers Gordo, sweating profusely. Gordo notices that Rita's attack dogs are spaced around the room making sure the journos are being kept in line. Richard Hector-Jones has joined them, it seems, looking a bit uncomfortable in the Master Williams grey tailored suit, the high collar showing off the double lightning flash insignias quite nicely.

“So sorry I couldn't get you in the VIP party, Gordo,” smiles Razor. “Don't worry though, they aren't your kind. You're much better here with your beer and your little, err, friends.”

By this time Angie had managed to lift a couple of those rare-as-hens'-teeth wristbands out of Hector's pocket while he was preening in the mirror. Off to the ball!

Spencer was eyeing Gordo with deep suspicion as he poured himself through the front door of the tent. A big, fat glass of the best champagne awaited (and it was good, all biscuity tickles going up the nose). Twitchy might have been useless back in the Eton days as a catamite, but by God his tuck box made up for it.

Gordo spots another familiar face and goes and gives him a fireman's lift. Warren is looking good. “Hey, Gordo, are you still chasing after that Joanne?” asks the tricky one. “I wouldn't put it quite like that Warren,” murmurs Gordo. “Where is she?”

“Got off a few minutes ago. She's been stood up, apparently.”

Gordo realises that Razors has done it again, thwarting true love out of jealousy and money.

Gordo walks out of the tent and bumps into an old friend who is acting as a steward. “Where are you going Gordo?” she asks, “We are about to have a concert.”

Gordo stayed to watch a lovely light show playing off the amazing buildings which hug this quite fantastic development. Everyone in the crowd was tapping away to that group we don't get to hear often enough here in Liverpool, The Beatles. Unfortunately the whole thing was spoiled by some scallies letting off fireworks.

That chicken pie was looking good to Gordo.

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19 comments so far, continue the conversation, write a comment.

DigOctober 3rd 2008.

I'm sure Warren Bradley is Eddie Izzard when he isn't in drag or make up? Can anybody confirm this?

Care worker for the councilOctober 3rd 2008.

It's really nice to see our great leader Warren Bradley, out and about at the Champagne evens with a grin on his face, when I'm at home wondering how I'm going to pay the bills and feed my kids now he has decided to make me redundant?

No Challenge At AllOctober 3rd 2008.

John, In answer to question one to Gordo - Earthly Powers.And in answer to your second question - Catch 22.Any more? A little question for you in return - which novel opens with "Today, Mother is dead"

GordoOctober 3rd 2008.

Blimey John, have you mistaken Gordo for someone who reads? However, Gordo needs to know if 'no challenge at all' has got it right; Gordo has a different answer supplied by the know-it-all that is Jonathan Schofield. Does Razors like the fab picture of her shoes? Gordo thinks those toes were rather well looked after as it happens. Toriblare, who is Billy Butler? Do you mean the feller that plays rounders for the Kansas City Royals? Good looking Lad that. It should be pointed out that Gordo felt that the Editor, Pixie Sammons, rather took the knife to his little piece of diary wonderfulness, the original included a very good dig at little David Lloyd, Editor of Oldham.com. Never mind. Also, a lot of politacally incorrect stuff stuff as well as sexist statements have dissapeared. Interesting that she didn't slice the catamite piece off. How is Twitchy? Gordo hasn't seen him since he was caught in the cellers of The Arkle snaffling his '61 Chateaux Margaux.

Care Worker for the CouncilOctober 3rd 2008.

too!

No Challenge At AllOctober 3rd 2008.

Such an easy question to meet La Jennings! Come on now John, lets not make it so easy for him!

Rusty SpikeOctober 3rd 2008.

Mr Gordo, old sausage...I don't think we've been introduced but you are probably an exceptional individual and a tip-top kind of bloke. So you can probably be excused boots, as they say in Zara. But back to the main theme...in fact when did groups of shops become described as malls in the UK? I suppose when we started using 'z' in such words as organising, and adopted the old Elizabethan spellings of English like the 'right ol' Charley boys and gals in the former colonies of north America. Malls indeed. Molls more like it. And while we are on that line...whatever happened to the Molly Malones? First ranter with the correct answer can have a free wander around Liverpool One. Heh, heh.

toriblareOctober 3rd 2008.

Gordo, you are Billy Butler! Has anyone ever seen Gordo and Billy Butler in the same place at the same time?No.Irest my case.

john williamsOctober 3rd 2008.

gordo my man - great read. Just a word to the wise - Razzors is only pretending to find it funny. Still there is a way out. She's a bit of a literary girl she'll be really impressed if you know in which novel by a famous mancunian author the word "catamite" appears in the first sentence? It's worth a meet with La Jennings if you get it right - and possibly a visit from Razors if you get it wrong!

gordoOctober 3rd 2008.

You calling Gordo a witless loon Rusty Spike?

johnwilliamsOctober 3rd 2008.

ok, Camus? The Stranger? Certainly something pretty weird. Pinter?

rita roweOctober 3rd 2008.

Nice Article Grodo!!Lots of Love Razors xxx

Rusty SpikeOctober 3rd 2008.

A shopping mall! A bleeding shopping mall! And all the witless loons come out to dance, sing and play as if the Duke of Westminster and his fawning acolytes intent was leading the Second Coming instead of us all hurtling rather swiftly towards Armageddon. Bloody hell, Arthur Scargill was right but I bet he's larfing himself sick at the antics of the bankers and soft shoe merchants who've come a cropper in the city. So this then is the legacy of Liverpool's regeneration, and Capital of Culture -a bunch of well-heeled shops. Well, I suppose fair enough, Margaret Thatcher's old man was a grocer. But to salivate over a shopping mall! Get a grip, Liverpool. Despair all who enter here....

DigOctober 3rd 2008.

Also if my nan was alive and blonde she would be the spitting image of Herbert.

Professor ChampagnebuffetOctober 3rd 2008.

Well let's hope that the Standards Board for England make our great leader and his future Mayor (FFsake!) both redundant very soon. Although I doubt either will be worrying about paying bills. perhaps with a proper enquiry into Liverpool Direct they could be surcharged for costing the people tens of millions which is of course one of the main reasons they are skint and looking to make redundancies.

johnwilliamsOctober 3rd 2008.

god I hate clever people - no idea. OK which Prime Minister was knowingly cuckolded by a member of his cabinet?

Angie the EdOctober 3rd 2008.

Oh well... (stares at nails and whistles innocently)

Care woorker for the councilOctober 3rd 2008.

Let's not forget the Half a million the council gave to Halsall for failing in his job!Pay offs galour for failure and mess ups yet for me who is never off ill nor have I ever been in any trouble, for me the one who does what I am told and over and above my duties, well I just get told to F**k off.

john williamsOctober 3rd 2008.

hmmm - easy is it? Ok which novel opens with the words "it was love at first sight" then? If you know that as well I'm buggered as they are the only ones I know apart from the House at Poo Corner which probably isn't very impressive. Certainly don't want any return challenges to expose my shallow intellectual credentials.

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