St George's Day 1979

Cutting through the hyperbolic ridicule of our standard posts, we just want to say that we're liking this Pascoe character more and more. A lot. 

Happily things have changed tremendously in the 25 years since this poem was conceived....

Now Then...

Due to frankly preposterous levels of half-arsed public interest and ale-fuelled heartfelt local demand, it is with great something that we announce the third print run of our maiden Burnley-centric tome.

There can't be many contemporary publications that feature claret-tinted memories of Sportak AND  t'Circ can there? - Enabling fond recollections of your first Luhta Ski Jacket and / or shag rash among various other snippets of ill-considered milltown nonsense.

'But why bother to put stuff like this out when clearly nobody gives a toss?', you may understandably (and somewhat rudely) enquire. Well we'd tell ya why, you cheeky bast, but there's no legitimate excuse that we can muster at this time. Come back to us on that one. All we can say in earnest is that one or two local heads bizarrely felt they'd somehow missed out on previous releases of the book, on account of all previous few hundred copies selling out, which is far more than a ramshackle tin-pot outfit such as ours could ever hope to replicate. So it's their fault...