Five reasons Liverpool should get over The Beatles

LIVERPOOL is to get £2 million to set up yet another Beatles attraction. Here’s why the city should move on from this obscure, rarely-discussed band.

They’ve got the worst name in rock history

The band apparently took ‘inspiration’ from Buddy Holly’s The Crickets, who didn’t look like insects either. In interviews they’ve referred to the name having a ‘double meaning’. Beat group, geddit? We think what they meant to say was ‘being a very crap pun’. 

They didn’t exactly hang around in Liverpool, did they?

Face it, the moment they made it, they were down to London, LA or even the Mull of Kintyre. They kept their Liverpool accents and Liverpool memories but not actual Liverpool addresses. Maybe they bloody hated Liverpool? At least The Human League stuck it out in Sheffield.

A museum, for f**k’s sake

Maybe Nadine Dorries (born Liverpool, currently an MP in Bedfordshire) thinks she’s doing the city she sodded off from a favour, but c’mon, a museum? Museums are for suits of armour and bits of 5,000-year-old vases, not pop groups. If you need a Beatles museum, just take out a subscription to the monthly rock music press.

You’re a city, not a bloody Ringo Starr theme park

Manchester got over Freddie and the Dreamers and The Hollies. Wolverhampton even got over Slade. Not until about six months ago, but they did. C’mon! Make the effort!

You’ve got Mo Salah, Jurgen Klopp, Stephen Graham, Jodie Comer, Kim Cattrall, Oya Paya and shitloads more

You’ll survive. Plus there are people like Mel C and Jimmy Tarbuck if you need to make up the numbers. Think about it, you could be Hull. What have they got? The Housemartins and the smell of fish.

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What to expect when you hang out with a more attractive friend

ARE you off out with a friend who’s drop-dead gorgeous in a way you will never be? Here’s what to expect when you find yourself playing the ugly mate.


This is your chance to try out the Harry Potter power, but instead of an inherited cloak, it’s your own disappointing appearance that will work the magic. Marvel at how everyone on the dance floor looks right through you. It’s humiliating, but at least they won’t notice your terrible moves – even your distressing twerking. 


Your friend’s looks will take you from VIP areas to wanky private members’ clubs to restaurants so fancy there’s no menu. But while your hot mate is lavished with freebies, you’re likely to end up paying your own way, which will leave you skint, unlike your usual Friday night Dr Oetker pizza in front of the telly.


You thought you were cool with your mediocre looks, but as the evening wears on you’ll find yourself adding more and more hair gel and/or eye makeup to assert your existence. By closing time you’ll be getting looks too, but of fear and confusion as you now resemble a cross between Danny Zuko and The Joker.


You’re not usually the type to meet new people, but after an evening being batted out of conversations you’ll be ready to brave a chat with strangers. Who knows, you might even get lucky. You’re not the belle of the ball, but what’s not to love about being the consolation prize?

An existential crisis

After hours of consistently being ignored, it’s only natural to start questioning if you do, in fact, exist at all. And if so, what the purpose of that sad existence might be. The only sensible solution is to turn to vodka shots: there’s nothing like vomming in the back of a cab to remind you of the grimy reality of your own physical being.