Gordon Ramsey, wanker
My only real encounter with a celebrity kind of covers both my being rude and being on the end of some wrath. One sunday, about 2 or 3 years ago I was wondering bleary-eyed towards my house after having been up all night in some squat in London, so I wasn't totally on the ball. Just down the road in front of me, I saw a guy carrying a big, professional looking camera and pointing it at a face I recognised but couldn't place.

After having stood about 5 feet away, gawping quite rudely at the familiar face and racking my brains for a while it struck me; I was staring blankly (probably with my mouth dangling open) at Mr Gordon Ramsey, the angriest chef in the land. Thinking I should probably get some evidence as no-one would believe that a telly person would bother coming to my little town, I pulled out my mobile and decided to take a picture.

"Excuse me, youre Gordon Ramsey aren't you? Would you mind if I took a picture?"

He glared at me, like I was an ex-lover telling him he might need to get his willy checked by a doctor and sneered:

"Maybe tomorrow eh?"

I had been well and truly boyed off, but due to my condition I didn't think to retaliate and wandered off in a daze. After a good nights sleep and a bit of time to brew on my encounter I decided that Ramsey was a bastard and kicked myself for having not shouted at least a few swears at him.

A couple of days later, as I was strolling through the town centre I saw him again. He was standing outside a restaurant (turns out he was filming some programme at a failing restaurant, hence his appearance in lil' ol' Letchworth) talking into a mobile phone. REVENGE WAS MINE!!

"OI!!"

He turned to look.

I pointed.

"WAAAANKEEEEERRRRRR!!!!"

I stuck my fingers up.

He looked very slightly bemused and went back to his conversation.

I feel like I won our little back and forth.
(Robbvayne, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 18:07, 2 replies)

Spaced
Myself and occasional poster Harry webshitter once spotted Simon pegg and Nick Frost together in HMV, OXford Street, in that there London.

Neither of us had the nerve to go and say anything to them, so like a couple of fan boys, we just stalked them around the store for about ten minutes, always maintaining a helathy distance, and ducking behind shelves if they looked in our direction.

Lady S was not pleased when I told her, I'd seen Pegg and not taken a photo of him for her viewing pleasure.
( Joe Scaramanga with a G-double-O-D vibration, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 17:37, Reply)

I work for a company that has a lot of movie industry bigwigs
popping in from time to time. My team leader at the time of this tale was Dave. He's a highly competent, hard working and friendly sort and so most of the VIPs would be directed to look over his shoulder as he demo'd our latest work.

Sitting next to him, I tended to keep my eyes on my screen and generally give the impression I was beavering away on some vital work, most of them were hollywood or UK movie exec types that no-one has heard of so it was no great loss.

On one such occasion I was looking busy as usual and not paying attention to the quietly spoken VIP with the soft english accent with a hint of mid-atlantic twang. The chat seemed to go on longer than usual and I got the vague impression the VIP was even asking a few relevent questions.

Eventually the small cluster of producers, VIPs and entourage thanked Dave and wandered off. At which point Dave leaned over to me and said "So have you heard of this Neil Gaiman chap then?"

And there, just leaving the room, was my favourite author and screenwriter, who, unbeknownst to me, had been standing next to me for the last twenty minutes.
( chenobble rocking his explorer beard on, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 16:59, 3 replies)

Worzel Gummidge
A bloke that drinks in my local played the little kid off Worzel Gummidge. He also played the navy kid that asked for Admiral Rimmer's autograph in the Red Dwarf episode 'Better Than Life'. He suffers from 'small man syndome' whenever he's drunk and, we think, still hankers for 'the boards'. He works in Specsavers now.
One night, he was was hosting the pub quiz, but fumbled over the pronounciation of a tricky word. A mate of mine (realmofconfusion on these boards) shouted out "Enunciate dear boy! Pretend you're a proper actOR!!"
We laughed.

(The bloke that plays Kevin Webster's dad occasionally drops in too but he seems like a nice bloke, even though he does ask all the pretty girls if they want his autograph...)
(Ghostlight, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 16:33, Reply)

The two ends of the spectrum...
Knocked Christopher Biggins over in the Grafton centre, Cambridge. I wasn't looking where I was going, he was dressed as widow twanky or some such panto get up. Bumped into him and he fell over.

And saw Jordan in Fleet services on the M3 a few years ago. I can only assume she was stopping off to buy Harvey some treats, and she had left him in the big limo parked outside blocking my car in.

Huge tits that girl.
(animal252 last activated his kitten hammer on, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 15:41, 3 replies)

You dwarf cunt!
I was at the cinema and there was a fuckload of people waiting to get tickets. some from the pre-order machine and some from the desks. well the machines packed up with about 100 people in their queue and so they all groaned and joined the queue for the tickets counters. apart from ian hislop, (who i think was there to see Slumdog Millionaire.)

the oint sized prick had barged his way to the front and demanded he be served next. being in polite society everyone brushed this off, but not me. i decided the best course of action was to shout "oi you dwarf cunt, fuck off into the queue"

he took this realtively badly and if it wasnt for the fact I am 6'4 and 20 stone, he might have tried to attack me.

well... no one likes to be called a dwarf cunt in front of their loved ones eh?
(g-rex, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 15:38, 1 reply)

I drink in the Good Mixer, Camden
A pub famous for being the place where the likes of Suede, Blur and Oasis drank during the heady days of Britpop, and now blatantly just trading on its former glories, though you do still see the occasional celeb in there. I've drunk next to Rhys Ifans, Finlay Quaye (barred for life now), Liam Gallagher, Graham Coxon, Kelly Osborne, Kate Moss...and Amy Winehouse. Now I had no idea who she was (this was just as she was getting big, but before her every fart was covered by the tabloids), but I'd gone there with my neighbours who were awestruck to be sharing a pub with her.
"It's Amy Winehouse!" they whispered ferociously.
"Where?" I replied in perhaps too loud a voice. "Behind that pissed-up girl?"
"That pissed-up girl *is* Amy Winehouse!" they hissed back.
It was only then I realised I'd seen that pissed-up girl in there loads of times, always pissed and usually causing trouble.

About a year later my ex tried to get in her car, but that's another story.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 15:29, 5 replies)

also
In Edinburgh during August, as has already been mentioned, you can't sneeze without hitting a celebrity. As well as the classics -Simon Amstell, Stephen K Amos, Marcus Brigstock et al - I saw Bill Bailey with a small child that I assumed to be his having a tantrum outside Schuh on North Bridge. The child was doing that thing that kids do when they just sit down and refuse to budge, and it was having a right old yell for good measure. Bill was half-carrying half-dragging it with some child reins, looking suitably vexed and embarrassed.

I also served Dylan Moran a nut loaf once. I wanted to tell him I loved him but I bottled it. If you're reading this, Dylan, I do.
(jennymnemonic, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 14:55, 1 reply)

Sweary Jon Snow
My local pub was under threat from developers who wanted to turn it into luxury flats. A campaign was started to save it - apparently Pete Doherty played some gigs in its support, and it culminated in a big meeting at Camden council where both sides would give their point of view and the council would vote on the outcome. I turned out with everyone else waving "Save our pub" placards, and as we gathered in the gallery, the pub's most famous customer Jon Snow presented our case. Thankfully the developers didn't have a leg to stand on - the pub was saved and everyone went back to the pub for a celebratory beer. I attempted to buy Mr. Snow a drink but he wouldn't have any of it, so I thanked him for his excellent oratory and derided the poor lady representing the developers because she'd had such a weak case. I'll never forget his response - he looked me straight in the eye and said "Fuck 'em."

Brought warmth to my heart, that did. Top bloke.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 14:55, 6 replies)

Another crap author...
I used to live in a small and fantastic village to the south of Cambridge.
My life was about change though as the ex-Mrs.Bof decided that we would relocate to Kent.
With the move imminent, we decided that our few days would be spent visiting the places that we liked.

The first night out was to our favourite restaurant in Cambridge. During the meal, the table next to us was taken by a couple… an author/former minister/convicted felon and his fragrant English rose of a wife, Jeffery and Mary Archer.

The next night, we went to a favourite bar/restaurant in Grantchester. Half way through our meal, in comes Jeffery and sits at the table next to us. A curious half-recognising expression crosses his face.

The next night (and our last) we spent in the Chequers pub in the village in which we lived. Friends and neighbours were coming and going throughout the evening. At one point the door opens and turning to see which friend/neighbour it was… in walks Jeffery Archer. He stops mid-stride, does a double take and I said “For f*ck’s sake, Jeffery, will you stop stalking me!”.
He legged it through to the restaurant and when he was leaving, left via the back door.

(He probably got used to the back door during his time in pokey)
(bof, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 14:54, 3 replies)

Jim 'dick' Davidson
A few years ago I was lucky enough to be invited to a glamarous charity auction at a park lane hotel for sporting charities. Attending the evening were such luminaries as some Dr off of GMTV, a sugar babe and an African nationwide league footballer. This was all introduced by the lovely Jim Davidson.

After drunkenly asking people to be quiet he swiftly moved on to asking the African footballer if he used witch doctors for his injuries and generally alienating the entire crowd. Thankfully the band started later in the evening and we drank our way on to the dancefloor. On spying Jim and his mahogany blonde escort/wife, my female friend wandered saucily and a little tipsily up to him.

'alright treacle' he slurred. 'nice to see you, to see you nice' my friend replied. 'err, that's Brucy not me love'. My friend simply tapped him on the chest, said 'I know' and wandered off. I like to think he was left to contemplate his mistakes and where his career had gone. But I believe i saw him head to the bar, order another whisky and retire to the lift with his lady companion.
(larrymullensnr, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 14:53, 3 replies)

Nast y and Nice
I have two stories, when where I was nasty and one where I was nice.

As a student back in the early nineties me and my mates used to frequent 'The Hobbit' down in Southampton. One evening after an all day session, and in a state of advanced refreshment, we all piled into the pub to be confronted by Chris Packham off Autumn Watch (back then 'The Really Wild Show'). He used to hang around the student bars even though he was far too old to be there. Cue a bunch of lads shouting "Look, it's Terry Nutkins!" across the bar at him. We then marched over and proceeded to ask questions like "What's the fastest land animal, Terry?" to which he replied "A cheetah, lads. Now fuck off". He was also wearing a 'Destroy' top (for those of you not acquainted with 90s fashion they were short sleeved rubber numbers that made the (very soon reversed) cross-over from gay / bondage clubs to the mainstream. On seeing this I pointed out to him "You're much too fat to wear 'Destroy'!" which didn't amuse him one bit.

His bird looked like an Estonian prostitute and was obviously very dirty but also very annoyed by our attentions. After thoroughly winding him up we left after shouting "See you, Terry!" across the pub at him and all waving, much to the amusement of all present. He wasn't happy. Serves him right for hanging around student bars when you're in your 30s.

The time when I was nice was when I recently went to Andy Parsons off 'Mock the Week's' house for a party. I had very, very bad guts that weekend and so snuck off to relieve myself mid-party. Unfortunately when I had finished and flushed several times the toilet bowl still looked like the ground in a farmyard. No problem, I thought. I'll give it a whizz around with the loo brush. Only there was no loo brush! As he is a very nice chap I couldn't bear to leave the bog in that state I went off on a hunt to find a toilet with a brush. Cue me sneaking round a famous comedian's house, bog brush in hand, hoping desperately that no-one would see me. I even wrapped it in loo roll on the way back so it wouldn't drip everywhere. Imagine trying to explain that one to a shocked party go-er!

Anyway, I managed to do it with no-one seeing, so I wasn't embarrassed and Andy had a lovely clean loo!

Length? Oh no, there was no consistency to that one
(give it six weeks and it might clear up would like to butter your muffin, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 14:51, 1 reply)

I was in a hi-fi shop here in Hull
where my mate was on an apprenticeship or whatever they called them 19 years ago. The shop in question was about 5 doors down from the casino.

Whilst he was showing off the hi-fi to me that was too good to appear in Comet/Currys/Dixons, I looked up and a short bloke who was quite obviously rat-arsed stumbling past the shop front when he suddenly lost his balance and fell against the very large shop window with enough force for it to noticeably bow inwards. How it didn't break I don't know. The bloke steadied himself and continued on his way.

"WTF?" quoth I.
"Oh, that's Norman 'broken microphone' Collier, he often staggers past on his way from the casino"
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 14:14, Reply)

I used to work in the world of London theatre in a non-glitzy capacity
and as such have bumped heads (once quite literally with Lee Mead off of Joseph) with quite a few people who have been stroked by the sometimes-less-than-discriminatory brush of fame. Brenda Blethyn told me that she loved my skirt, and Erin O'Connor gave me canapes and posh chocolate (no-one else was eating them; it was a model's meeting.) Ian McKellan also used to swing by on occasion - he's taller than you would expect, and was unfailingly nice. Andrew Lloyd Webber also comes across better in person than I'd thought from his rather smarmy public image.

I think my favourite famous encounter, though, was with Henry Goodman (a full-on old-school theatre luvvie) when he was in Fiddler on the Roof at the Savoy. I was coming in the stage door just as he was dashing out for a cheeky fag in between scenes. He grabbed me firmly by the arms. It was less scary than it sounds - I'm fairly petite, but he was at least half a head shorter than me.

'WHO the FUCK are YOU?' he demanded, roaring into my face in a mighty yet querulous boom, like a cross between Brian Blessed and the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland.

Gabbling, and more than a little flustered, I explained that I worked for the actor's union and was just there to put up a notice regarding a meeting. I brandished the poster as proof. He practically snatched it from my hands, before handing it back with a Wildean flourish.

'Well,' cried the tiny Jewish stage legend in a thousand-yard voice, 'I suppose SOMEBODY has to!' And with that he realised my arms, roared again, and disappeared round the corner.

I pissed myself laughing all the way back to the office.
(jennymnemonic, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 14:12, Reply)

About 17 or so years ago...
the future Mrs Trout was a v. attractive teenage waif living on a shoestring in that London.

She was in a swanky nightclub dancing away when she was approached by a tall, imposing looking, but perfectly pleasant black guy who made it clear that he was indeed most interested in (ahem) getting to know her a bit better.

In that way that only young ladies can manage she brushed him off without batting an eyelid and returned to her friends who had watched the whole encounter with open mouths.

"Well, what did he say? - oh my god - did he ask you out?"

"Yeah he did, but I didn't fancy him - and he said his name was Cecil, which I thought was a bit odd"

"No Miss Trout, that was Seal."

"Oh"



His loss, my gain.



Length - doesn't bear thinking about.
(The Pesky Trout, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 13:57, 1 reply)

Orbital
Many of my messiest nights involve going to see Orbital. Back in 2002 or 2003 they played Somerset House. lovely evening and I was utterly wasted. Was talking to one of my mates who i'd met up with at the gig the next day, and recounting the weird shit that my mind had made up including Sol from Hollyoaks repeatedly coming up and trying to strike a conversation even though i repeatedly blanked him by dancing like a child on 4 cans of tango. Turns out that bit actually did happen. So if you're out there Sol, sorry, i thought I was imagining you, your silly little poker visor and your silly little overstyled beard.
(Alphabet Soap boshboshboshbosh, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 13:55, 1 reply)

Grange Hill and Madness
I got punched in the eye by a mate of Gonch, the ginger one from Grange Hill, whilst celebrating New Year's Eve in Trafalgar square. It was weird and uncalled for.

My Dad told the fella from madness who used to wear pyjamas that he was stupid for doing so. That was also weird and uncalled for. It was at Noel Edmonds Multi-coloured Night Out. Hang on, was it one of the Boomtown rats during a filming of Crackerjack aaahhh brainache ... i'm off for a lie down.
( spingers, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 13:43, 3 replies)

I sat next to Jarvis cocker on a plane.
he was nice.

I also had a run in with Simon Amstell at the festival a few years back. I was actually riding a Pedicab with his advertising on it and met him and his brother (who had designed and booked the advert) and asked for a photo with him and my cab for my boss. He was rude and a bit of a douchebag about it - clearly bouyed up by his legion of hanger oners he was with. His brother eventually ushered him away and gave me a "gee - famous people ay" look.

The same festival I was ripped apart by Rich Hall as his warm up. I was sitting on my cab outside the spiegeltent when he came out so I shouted "hey Rich Hall - REMEMBER ME" he looked a little confused and then said "no I'm fine thanks" - think he thought I was offering him a lift.
( Nostrebor can't be everything all the time., Mon 12 Oct 2009, 13:41, 1 reply)

I have no interesting stories
So have a few shit ones instead.

Nearly got run over by the Queen Mum's Daimler (well, a big black car) at Coventry Station in 1990. She did smile and wave though.

Saw Dominik Diamond walking along a deserted street near Wembley Stadium in 1991 or 1992.

Chatted with Dave Gilmour for about five minutes while queuing to go into a recording at Central TV studios in Nottingham in 1992 or 1993. Nice guy. Then turned to the guy stood next to me (who had asked for various things to be signed) and asked "so who was that then?".

Threw my underwear at Dannii Minogue as part of a dare/bet in 1993. EDIT: Must have been a dare, as I don't recall getting anything in return apart from slightly chillier knackers.

Served Rory Underwood tea in 1994.

Was walking down the road outside the Virgin Megastore in London in 1996 with my arm in a sling when Chris Evans and Kim Wilde ran straight into me. Too polite to call him a ginger tosser, and too lacking in gumption to remember that I'd just bought her Greatest Hits CD in the Virgin sale (in my defence, I was a recent ex-student at the time).

Shouted "We love you, Michael" (in an ironic fashion) at point blank range at the late King of Pop with a bunch of other backpackers who'd picked up a night's work backstage at his concert in Sydney in 1996 (after being instructed not to look at or speak to Mr Jackson under any circumstances).

Saw David Campese in a shopping centre in the suburbs of Sydney in 1996. When I told my Australian co-workers they laughed at me and told me I was standing outside his shop.

Moved to Yorkshire in 1998 and have not knowingly seen a celebrity since - I worked next door to the Emmerdale studios for eighteen months, but I've never seen the programme so probably blanked the entire cast in that time. Oh, and I saw two Leeds United players in a club and thought they were bouncers.

What do I win?
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 13:35, 1 reply)

Theres a lady in our village
who f*cked a wurzel.

Now she has 2 sons. One is more Wurzelly than the other. But she insists it was before she married. I think we know better.....
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Mon 12 Oct 2009, 13:29, 2 replies)

Fancy a kickabout?
I was 3 1/2 and living in Southport. Lovely place. Used to be posh but now, well, scousers...

Now, given Southport's proximity to Liverpool, it was quite common for celebrities and the like to spend a bit of time there rather than in Liverpool itself. You can see why.

My nan took me for a stroll down Lord Street..
"Look, he is a footballer..do you want his autograph?"
Like I knew who he was. I was only just 3 FFS!
"NO!"
But she got it me anyway - written on the back of one of his cig packets.

And his mate gave me 10p

I wasnt keen on kicking the football back to his other mate though. Footballs are hard you know.

I screamed so loud the street emptied.

It was only afterwards when i was quite a bit bigger did I learn I has snubbed George Best for an autograph, 10p from Bobby Charlton and screamed at Bobby Moore and his mate with the funny eye Gordon Banks. There was some other bloke there too "with a big chin" was all nan could remember.
(sarcasminasuit, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 13:24, 2 replies)

Bryan Ferry
My mom dated Bryan Ferry when she was 11, she had only been going out with him for a week when some friends suggested they have a bike race, my mom beat good old Bryan and for that, he dumped her... a git even at the age of 11, go figure.
(Barmybarny, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 13:15, Reply)

West Bromwich Albion Goalkeeper...
...Dean Kiely's missus gave me a tenner for dragging my mate away from him and Scott Carson (fellow WBA netminder) and his missus in The Tap & Spile in Brum. Funny things was, the lads didn't mind the p*ssed w*nker sitting at their table and talking b*llocks to them, but the girls did. Must've been a riveting night up until that point...
(SonoraAeroClub "OH SWEET HELEN OF BALLS!", Mon 12 Oct 2009, 12:52, Reply)

Just happened
...this Saturday gone.

My other-half's aunt was in London (or down the river from) and saw a decent looking narrow boat.

Liking boat, she took her camera out and started to take a few pictures. Until the chap on the top shouted "are you taking a picture of the boat or a picture of me?", "The boat" she replied, "why would I take a picture of you?".

"Don't you know who I am?" ventures the man on the boat.

"Of course not, who the fuck are you?" she asks back.

"I'm the wizard in the Harry Potter films"

"Oh," she says, "never seen it."

It was, of course, Micheal Gambon. Apparently he looked miffed.
(dchurch bah, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 12:52, 1 reply)

Freddie from Freddie and the Dreamers (who?)
Freddie copped a grope of my backside during the 1983 Bognor Carnival Queen competition. I was only 16 and he was about 70. Dirty old bugger.
(tittch is a small woman. With strange ideas., Mon 12 Oct 2009, 12:25, Reply)

I wasn't rude my friend was
I was nice ;o)

Many years ago I worked at Glastonbury in the backstage bar. It was the year when they introduced the "new bands stage" our bar was behind that one. It was on the Saturday and I was on the 1st shift. I was out in the bar sorting out ashtrays, chairs & tables when a portly grey haired bearded bloke passed me on the way to the bar. I was beside myself with excitement it was none other than John Peel. He approached the bar, Lindy (her and her hubby ran the bars) was behind the bar. Tenner in hand he stepped up

"can I have a pint of Bombardier bitter please" he said

"fuck off we're closed" shouted Lindy (we were about 2 mins off opening)

John's face fell an he began to stammer an apology. By this time I'd made my way over to Lindy "But it's John Peel!"

"I don't care who he is we're not open" and she went off to the truck with the barrels & stock.

So I served him a pint of bitter and we had a bit of a chat about this and that including who he was looking forward to seeing at the festival. It was truly strange having that voice that I'd heard so much talking directly to me.

In Lindy's defence she was 6 or 7 months pregnant and it was a wet/muddy Glasto so I can't imagine she was that comfy camping.
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 12:20, 3 replies)

Ben Folds,
once took a photo of me waiting outside the Birmingham Acadamy, a truley lovely man! Chatted to us for a good while as well.


I can also be heard on the Kaiser Cheifs DVD. Back when they were called Parva my friends band supported them at the Little Civic in Wolverhampton. Turns out that infact they are massive wankers, so i decided to do what anyone would do and as they walked out on stage I bellowed out "Fuck off you wankers". They asked who it was to which i put my hand up and gave them the corrasponing gesture.


aaaaaaaaaaaa good times.
(chemicals1234, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 11:59, Reply)

Now then young man, sit on my knee and have a pea
Jimmy Saville..

I've met Jimmy a couple of times in Leeds, and the guy is a complete fruitcake:

The first meeting was at an Indian Restaurant, a few minutes from where Jimmy lives - he stumbled in, smoked a cigar and looked around for anyone who was willing to have a chat.

We were paying our bill at the time, and Jimmy walks up and gives a 'How do?', I respond to the positive, and return the question, he replies with '10 out of 10 lad, 10 out of 10.. but now it is time to DON. MY. DISGUISE!'

He proceeds to pull his wooly hat over his head, puts his sunglasses onto his face which is now covered by the hat, exclaims 'oh tha no, I can't see lad!', stumbles out of the restaurant, and proceeds to drive his car in reverse (no word of a lie) all the way back to his flat. Thoroughly mental.

The second time was at a (now closed) Cantonese restaurant . My girlfriend and I were waiting for a table, as was Jimmy, and we were having a bit of a banter. He was wearing a green and black Adidas shellsuit, with the jacket opened to reveal a Rab C. Nesbitt-esque string vest, greyed chest fuzz on display. For some reason, he kept alternating between asking my girlfriend to sit on his knee, or have a nap under his chair because she looked a bit tired (???).

He then gets seen to his table, which is right next to the waiting area, Jimmy then turns round, looks me in the eye and says "Now then, don't you be dipping your hand in my pockets and stealing my jewels!"

My girlfriend replies with "We wouldn't think of it Jimmy!"

Jimmy shot back with "I know *you* wouldn't because you're lovely, but HIM (pointing at me), he looks SHIFTY", while his eyes boggled around in semi-lucid suspicion.

Geriatric cnut..

Long, chavvy, and covered in jingle-jangle-jewellery
(Lythium deals in lead, my friend., Mon 12 Oct 2009, 11:41, 3 replies)

Davo
Once a few years back my mum's colleague was planning her wedding and herself and her husband had found a large manor house in the country with stunning views etc, room to hold a wedding party plus guests for the weekend.

Well anyway it was all booked and the bride was happy.
Around a month or so before the date the management at the house phoned up to say that an anonymus celeb wanted to book the house on the same weekend and she was phoning on their behalf to ask whether they would they consider changing it?

Of course this ruined plans and was a no no, so the lady on the phone said it was not a problem and that was that.
Around an hour later the groom gets a phonecall from the same lady telling him that the anonymus celeb was really interested on having the house on that particular weekend and if he were to cover costs of the hire of said house to compensant would they change their mind.
Groom told his fiancee and they decided it would be a good idea to save some money. So the anon celeb could have it his way.
So the lady thanks them, all is well, plans get re-aranged then a week later a cheque arrives in the post adressed to the groom for an amount of money unknown to me signed by David Beckham.

Apparently he wanted to have the house for a christening party for one of his sons.
Long post n that.
(Bludfoot rushing out since, Mon 12 Oct 2009, 11:33, 3 replies)