Take my advice, Sir Paul. Put your feet up

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I don't know if you've heard about this, but Liverpool is a bustling seaport in the north of England, the birthplace of four young lads who changed the world. They certainly changed my world, I know that much. They've cost me a small fortune. I forked out 32s 6d for the first album, and it's been spend, spend, spend ever since.

I don't know if you've heard about this, but Liverpool is a bustling seaport in the north of England, the birthplace of four young lads who changed the world. They certainly changed my world, I know that much. They've cost me a small fortune. I forked out 32s 6d for the first album, and it's been spend, spend, spend ever since.

It's sickening. Every time a new musical format appears in the shops, I have to rush out and buy Revolver once again. "Have you heard it on MiniDisc?" I was recently asked. No, and I don't intend to. I've done my share. Let someone else have a go. This is a job for Noel Gallagher. He can afford it. I can't.

I just wish Sir Paul McCartney would get it into his head that the relationship is over. But he just won't let it go. Now, I have to fork out 35 quid for the "official" Beatles biography, as told by the boys themselves, and one dead one. Perhaps I'm becoming a tad cynical in the later stages of my Beatles fandom, but what is there left for me to know? What secrets will the boys officially reveal? Ringo is really a woman? George Harrison owns a string of butcher's shops in the Maidenhead area? John Lennon is alive and well and sharing a holiday flat with Elvis?

What on earth drives the man? It can't be poverty. It's hardly likely than when Sir Paul's bank statement plops through his letterbox it is followed by a muffled scream. "Down to my last £555m!" cries an anguished voice in perfect pitch. "Quick! Pass me a paintbox! Call the Arnolfini!" Yes, apart from the exhibition (so now, I have to fork out for the train fare to Bristol; and no doubt there's a catalogue I can buy), there's also a book of Sir Paul's paintings on the horizon, a mere snip at £30. So, if I forgo the pleasure of buying the biography, I'm five quid ahead. Finally.

But that's not the end of it. Oh, no. Apparently, Sir Paul has been writing poetry also, and guess what? Yes, he's considering publishing. Picture the expression on his face when the rejection slip arrives. "Dear Sir Paul, Although we think your work shows promise... "

Now, if I had written a song as heartbreakingly beautiful as Here, There and Everywhere; if I had conquered the world with a bass guitar; if I owned a business that has cornered the market in vegetarian sausages; if I'd composed classical music and had it played at the Albert Hall; if I'd done any of these things, up to and including the ability to retain the same hairline that I had when I was 20, then I think I'd be inclined to put my feet up. I'd take up bowls. I'd be living in a cottage on the Isle of Wight. I certainly wouldn't be churning out any more stuff.

I suppose that eventually there will be no art-forms left for Sir Paul McCartney to conquer. Then we can all relax and start saving. But no. Chillingly, one ambition remains, at least according to a recent interview. Apparently, Sir Paul has revealed that he "has even considered becoming a stand-up comic".

Well, book me a front-row seat in the Comedy Store now. When Arthur Smith announces a "young man from Liverpool making his comedy debut", I want to be there.

Enter Sir Paul. "Have you ever noticed", he might announce to a gob-struck crowd, "how the Beluga caviare from Fortnum & Mason lacks the intrinsic sharpness of the stuff you get from Harrods?" Whoops of appreciative laughter lead to a couple of gags about drummers, a knockabout version of Yesterday on the ukulele, then off. Another world conquered. Another 50 quid in the back pocket.

If you're serious about comedy, Sir Paul, let me offer you a tip. Forget the gruelling one-night stands. Corporate gigs are where the money is. You never know. Play your cards right and you might find yourself entertaining one of your own companies. If so, here's another hint: don't make any jokes about the boss.

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