one of many.... spike miligna the well known typing error
I was doing my old day job and exited the broom cupboard full of gear I kept running, only to see Spike Milligan in the corridor right in front of me.
I must have looked shocked as he mock recoiled and asked " do you work here?" er....yes. "YOU POOR SOD!" and he walked on.
They had been recording this which I discovered a month ago and the memories flooded back:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LA55hVbBCg

Which is a tribute to the editors art. You can just see some flow interruptions , but how they made something this joined up from the recording sessions?

The presenter was useless, pretentious and patronising, and Spike was wound up and on it, every time dickhead was on autocue he wagged a finger at him just out of shot going: do-do-do-do-do...... to put him off, not that he needed it.
We were in tears with all the asides that went over dimboy`s head

You may detect some of the atmosphere from finished assembly. That was normally a one take as live, with presenter drop ins and fluff retakes to tidy it up, early bath and lunch. Not this time.
(tootired Is searching for a funny sig, nothing good so far, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 18:38, Reply)

Paris Hilton
One of my friends went to see the band Good Charlotte last year i think, and he decided to wait around afterwards to meet them. Now at the time one of the guitarists was in a relationship with Paris Hilton. My friend is quite the fan of Good Charlotte so of course he knew that she would probably be at the show so he planned for such an occasion in advance. The band came out with Paris in tow.

This was when my friend made his move, he approached Ms Hilton and very politely asked if she would sign a certain video tape starring herself.
Apparently she declined.
I cant imagine why.
(stitched, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 18:22, Reply)

I recognised a bloke in The Swan pub in Stourbridge
back in about 1993, it was quite an exciting time to be in Stourbridge if you liked homegrown music talent, Ned's Atomic Dustbin, the Wonder Stuff, and of course Pop Will Eat Itself.

So I sees me a white skinny bloke with an impressive beaky nose, has his dreadlocks dyed red and bundled up around the back of his head, having a quiet pint with someone else I didn't recognise and I twigged- it was Clint from 'The Poppies'!

Now I've alwas been a rock-orientated music fan, in fact I was probably wearing my Iron Maiden tour t-shirt at the time but I thought- go up and say hi. But I was pissed.

So, I did the typical thing..wandered over and said- 'Hi, aren't you Clint?' to which he openly greeted me with a a raised eyebrow and a faint smile.

Then I bollocks it up.

'I'm sure your stuff is great, I've never seen you of course but anyway...'(his smille went even fainter) -'but it's nice to see you drinking in a regular pub with real people and not being a stuck up wanker'- (had I had a drink? I think I may have) at which point his smile drops, and in a classic case of images going into the eyes and coming out the mouth with no censorship, finished ' With your hair like that you look like that Alien Queen monster'.

To his credit he didn't say anything but the person who was with him interrupted with 'You're just one of those people with a 'star' complex, you have to try and bring people down just because they're famous and you're not' at which point my bravery vanished and I stumbled off realising I had come across as a massive twat.

I recounted this to my brother a couple of days later, hoping he would vindicate my behaviour by saying what a wanker Clint was, but instead he said- 'Oh no, met him a few times now and he's a really, really nice guy' (my brother worked a a music recording venue in Stourbridge so this was entirely plausible).

Shit.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Thu 8 Oct 2009, 18:19, 1 reply)

Does this count?
Back in the day I worked at a petrol station and once sold a tin of chicken soup to chubby, First Minister of Scotland Alex Salmond. The situation was so surreal that I couldn't stop myself from giggling and he ended up leaving his money on the counter and stormed off while I try to compose myself..


...crap story I know.
(BoyBacon is good for you., Thu 8 Oct 2009, 18:15, 3 replies)

Let me drop some names...
This'll really show my age.

Diana Rigg, in a restaurant in Leeds. I was old enough to know that if she was wearing her Mrs Peel outfit and kicked me in the face, it wouldn't be completely terrible, but young enough not to understand why - 11 or 12 I suppose. I didn't realise it at the time, but she'd just been to her father's funeral, and she still found time to give me her autograph.

Bryan Ferry when he was still a Geordie and went out with my cousin. I thought he was a twat, but changed my mind when he started Roxy Music.

I tried to chat up Selena Scott when she was still at Grampian TV in Aberdeen. I had no idea who she was.

Rolf Harris used to be one of my customers (copying artworks and so on). He is quite eccentric.

Sir David Steel, Alex Salmond, and Ming Campbell are acquaintances, and I knew Charles Kennedy before he was an MP. I don't recall him being particularly fond of a drink, but this was up in N W Scotland where normal rules do not apply. NB I am neither a Lib-Dem nor a Scots Nat.

My ex-wife had a fling with Phil Lynott (Thin Lizzie). His willy was bigger than mine, but I was better in the sack. Apparently.
( MisterPunch did it that way on, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 18:03, Reply)

Andy Gray is a fucking dirty bastard.

( mike woz ere 7442200 & 7696970 getter, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 17:54, Reply)

The Strangler
My Dad used to play Trival Pursuit on a pub team with Dave Greenfield the keyboard player from the Stranglers (He said he wrote Golden Brown, I have checked Wiki and it might be a bit true). Well, my Dad being super buoyed up by his new celeb friend asked him and his girlfriend round our house for dinner. I think the name for this is Starfucker.

I was only a kid at the time and liked to be involved with everything that was going on, so when the obligatory Trivial Pursuit box came out with the additional question cards (show off Dad style) I wanted to play. Well, the horrible Dave and girlfriend didn’t like this idea and refused to play if a child was going to play, were they scared they would be beaten by an 8 year old?

Anyway, I got my own back. At just 8 I could hardly shout you rude b@stards, don’t forget you are guests in this house - the house where I live. So, I hid the girlfriend’s leather gloves they never did find them. After a few days showed them to my mother, she never told my Dad what I did.
(Free pens 100, 101, 102 is still counting on, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 17:43, Reply)

Perfect 10
Many moons ago when I was a student in Hull, I was in a pub with some mates having a few jars and generally trying to not look like students so we didn't get our heads kicked in. Recognised a guy propping up the bar and finally twigged it was the chubby lead singer of the Beautiful South. Being that none of us were fans of their middle of the road nonsense we didn't feel the need to fawn over him or even say hello, but my mate did walk over to the juke box and chuck a few quid in, putting Perfect 10 on a fitting 10 times in a row. Then we sat back and watched. First time it came on, he looked bashful but secretly pleased. Second time confused. Third time a bit peeved. As the opening bars came out of the speakers for the fourth time he drained his pint and walked out in a huff.

And that's about the best thing that happened in Hull. Ever.

Edit: If anyone wants to try this, the pub is The Grafton Hotel just of Newlands Avenue. Apparently he's a regular.
(Alphabet Soap boshboshboshbosh, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 17:33, 3 replies)

One I'll never forget..
.. when I was at the starting point of the 2007 Gumball 3000 rally in Pall Mall. I was stood there while all of the expensive exotic cars were pulling up to their position in the grid and then I saw him ... Tim Westwood pulling up in a very nice American classic (Sorry, forgot what the make/model was).

He got out and was looking a little lonely .. Nobody seemed bothered by his presence. I was just happy to stand there and not bother him, but the people behind me had better ideas.

(Westwood had his back to us)

Bloke behind me: "HEY! WESTWOOD! OVER HERE! WESTWOOD! YEAHH!"

Westwood turns round, with a little grin on his face. Somebody actually wanted his attention! He waves at us!

Bloke behind me: "YOU CCCCUUUUUUUUNNNTTTTTTT!!!!"

Westwood's grin vanished and he decided it would probably be best if he just turned back round, his waving coming to a gradual stop.

I really don't like his show .. But I did feel a little bad for him then.
(MrNorm, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 17:29, 4 replies)

I've never been rude to a celebrity
But a couple of my friends have been competing to see who can spot the biggest non-entity of a celebrity. They've an impressive list, mainly of former soapstars who've vanished into near obscurity, only to reappear on Celebrity Big Brother (and Other Animals). But I think I've managed to trump them all:

I've seen the woman who played Billie Piper's Mum in the new series of Dr Who. Oh, yeah.
(LongJohnBaldry, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 17:10, Reply)

Lager than Life
I once drove around Cambridge in a van, running some errands for a radio station, accompanied by an actor. Along the way we got talking about his roles. I'd heard of some of the plays and shows he'd been in, but none of the parts seemed to be any more notable than 'Third Man On Pedalo Capsizing Into Chemical Spill' in Casualty.

It was only later that he casually mentioned that throughout the 1980s, his was the gruff voice that growled "Probably the Best Lager in the World".

Unless Richard Stilgoe or Green Claws put in an appearance at some point, I don't think I'll ever be more impressed by a celeb encounter.
(costas, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 17:05, Reply)

Hmmmm forbidden mincepie
At a Christmas charity do to raise awreness for cancer/AIDS/diabetes, I forget which one, the guest of honor was none other than wrinkly eighties question master "can I have a B please" Bob Holness.

This in itself made the whole turgid affair bearable as Bob was a legend. No arguments there, his friendly yet professional delivery of tricky letter based questions would put many young "quizmasters" today to shame. Yes I'm taliking about you Dermot Murnaghan, Eggheads my foot, I've never seen such a bunch of arrogant jumped up nob jockeys in my life.

The charity do involved some singing, some talking, more singing and some more talking, fascinating stuff I'm sure you'll agree. It was also rather long and by the end I was clammering for food like so many tracksuited charvers queing outside Slutty Fried Offal.

To allivate my hunger I raided the aftershow party with gusto and extreme prejudace towards the meat based snacks. My irrepresable urge to stuff my engorged stomach lead me down the slippery slope to ruin.

As I slipped the last delicious mince pie into my cavenous gob an erudite and strangly familiar voice echoed in my ear.

"Was that the last mince pie" it said with undisclosed menance.

"Yes...sorry" I mumbled through butter pastry and raisins.

"Well I haven't had any yet that was really rather selfish" Bob continued, in a tone reminisant of your parents expressing disapointment.

"Sorry" was all I could say before sulking out of his cold accusing glare.

I was told off by Bob Holness and could'nt even manage a witty "Can I have a pie please Bob" style comeback.
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 17:05, Reply)

Butlins School Disco Weekend December 2005.
Standing in a room full of people dressed in school uniform calling Timmy Mallett a cunt. The highlight of my weekend. It doesn't get better than that.
( Blue Star was working part time at the 5 and Dime, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:54, 2 replies)

Gregory Isaacs
called me a fokkin pussyclaaat once. In Middlesbrough.
( wotofco pissing in your swimming pool, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:50, 2 replies)

Another celebrity-wrangling story
In a previous life working as a studio manager for a certain broadcaster of some repute, one of my duties involved the booking-in and wrangling of celebrity guests.

There was minor excitement when celebrity paratrooper and spoon-bender Uri Geller came to visit. The interview went reasonably well – though the idea of bending cutlery on the radio is patently absurd – and I readied the studio for the next guest – a chef of some repute who might have taken a funny turn at the sight of all that abused kitchenware.

Alas, Mr Geller wasn't leaving. He had a small knot of office cleaners and assorted colleagues around him as he demonstrated his party trick, certainly not for the first time that day.

"See? The spoon is bending!" he said to coos of delight as I stood impatiently in the doorway, pointedly looking at my watch.

With time pressing, I confess to being a little curt with Mr Geller, and I might – conceivably – have referred to him as "a bit of a spacker".

On the way home from work that night, I wrote off my car; and in the following days I was struck down by food poisoning, and an antique clock bequeathed to me by my grandfather packed up and HAS NEVER WORKED SINCE.

Just thinking about this period of my life last week caused a young lady to drive into – and write off – yet another car, and the dishwasher's leaking all over the kitchen.

Uri: Please stop it. I'm sorry.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:42, 2 replies)

Can you tell what it is yet?
Him indoors bumped into Rolf Harris at Ascot races one year and said to him "you're a cunt for what you did to Stairway to Heaven"

Got escorted out.

And I got hopelessly emotional after Chelsea won the FA Cup in 2000 and once I got back to Stamford Bridge from Wembley in our stretch limo, told a very charming Sir Richard Attenborough, , whilst hugging/kissing him, that I wished he was my Granddad.

oh and I once bought Graham Rix a pint in the Director's lounge at Stamford Bridge. Clearly I was too old for him though.
( Sallyrsm, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:39, 2 replies)

That's so....
My first proper job after uni 10 years ago was processing life assurance applications. After my intense training period (a WHOLE 4 days) my first case was a certain camp Irish chat show host. Anyone who has ever applied for life assurance will know that you have to answer questions about your age, height, weight, health and lifestyle etc etc. The answers to these questions determines whether you are offered life assurance on the spot or whether the underwriters need more information. If you are overweight or have a history of medical problems, the underwriters may ask you to undergo a medical examination, if you have any dangerous hobbies they may ask you for further information about the frequency and intensity of such hobbies. If you are a homosexual, you will most probably have to have an HIV test. Thems the rules.

To cut a long story short, this particular camp Irish chat show host went absolutely mental when he received my letter explaining the necessity of an HIV test. Apparently I had completely abused his trust, as he had not wanted to state that he was a homosexual...like it was some big secret!

He cancelled his application and just for good measure his financial adviser phoned me up to give me a bollocking for costing him a sale. Because I was the new guy I thought I might get fired, even though it was an underwriting decision, so I kept copies of all the correspondence. Once it became obvious that I was in the clear I burned all the copies just in case I did something stupid like send them all to a tabloid newspaper in a fit of spite and greed.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:32, 2 replies)

Challenged Anneka
Long story short, the missus once blagged us both into an after-show party for a popular musical. It was a lavish affair, held in a theatre just off Leicester Square. We swanned in and immediately began quaffing champagne with the West End's biggest names. But one celebrity guest impressed us more than all the others. Mid-quaff, the missus nudged me and whispered "LOOK!!! IT'S ANNEKA RICE!!!!"

And with that, she was off in hot pursuit of the 80s TV stalwart, eager to ask her all about Treasure Hunt, Challenge Anneka and all those other shows she did.

Five minutes later, the missus was back. And a lot redder.
"I think I've annoyed her" she mumbled.
"How?" I asked.
"I don't know! All I said was 'You're Anneka Rice!'"
"And?"
"And she said Yes"
"And?"
"And... And I said 'I used to watch you all the time when you were famous'"
"Oh"
"I tried to explain what I meant"
"Right..."
"She told me to leave it and walked off."
"Whoops."

Anneka, if you're reading this, she's really sorry that it came out wrong. If it's any consolation, her embarrassment is so great that she now can't watch any TV programme with you on.

Granted, that amounts to the episode of QI that you did, but that still comes round at least once a week on Dave.
(costas, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:28, 1 reply)

played a gig with alex zane the other day
one of these university freshers balls. wasn't really rude to him, we told him we lived in a skip, then discussed sex in skips. then my friend got in the skip. he was ok, really!
( valoukh newsgash.wordpress.com, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:17, 4 replies)

Beatlemania
My mother was in her early teens and living on an RAF base in Germany around the time the Beatles started making it big.

After a gig in Germany they flew back to the UK from the RAF base.

All the service personnel and their kids stood around waiting for the fab four to arrive. When they did my mother shouted out the non too original line "Get your hair cut". John Lennon responeded with "Get yer throat cut"
( shitkicker, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:15, 2 replies)

My wife hit Jenny Bond (ex Royal Correspondent) with a garden rake
Er...sorry, that's it.
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:15, 2 replies)

Terry Scott
Terry off Terry and June told a 10 year old me to "fuck off" because I had the temerity to ask for his autograph in Godalming station.

I'm glad the fat fucker fell off his deckchair.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:15, 1 reply)

Me & Tommy Sheridan
When I was at uni Tommy Sheridan wanted to be the new rector. So he was hanging about the union hoping for votes. I asked him if I could have my picture taken with him, he was only to happy to oblige.

www.flickr.com/photos/andytaylor1234567/3849299357/in/set-72157622122485446/
(thrain, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:09, 1 reply)

Busted Guy
A few months ago I won tickets to the premier of the lesbian vampire killers film (the one with the fat one and skinny one from Gavin and Stacey).

After the film everyone was standing around in the hallway talking and generally being in the way so I went out the fire exit to have a smoke.

While I was there the fat one came outside with that guy form busted that looks like a crackhead and his bird (who's also a bit famous but I don't know her name).

The guy from busted came over and me for a light which I duly supplied then purely form gratitude he stayed around and had a bit of a chat.

If you've never met him you don't need to cos he's a boring cunt and the conversation was dying by that point so I had nothing left to say but that I'd love to fuck his bird and too be fair he laughed then just made his excuses and left.

Oh and the fat one just blanked us and the skinny one said hello for about a second before trying to chat up some bird.

Edit: and the film was a bit shite too
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 16:04, Reply)

I shoved my arse in Suzi Quattros face once.
Really, by accident at a gig once.
(Waynster James Joyce is fucking my sister!, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 15:54, Reply)

Football! Sky! Italian! Heartbreak!
I was in Republic one night, in Sheffield. Chris Waddle was in too. Me and my mates spent the whole night walking up to him, kicking an imaginary ball, and raising our gazes conspicuously skywards.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Thu 8 Oct 2009, 15:45, 2 replies)

Sussed! Midgets! Hummers! Tapas!
Robert Earnshaw; He's now a Forest player (up the Reds!), but he used to play for the local team near me, Norwich City.

I was sitting outside a tapas bar, watching the post office crowd go by and enjoying the sunshine. The bonus, of course, was that it was summer and there are a lot of sexy office girls in skimpy outfits wandering past. I sipped at a beer, chatted to my mate and generally felt pretty content.

That all changed when a Hummer flew into a disabled parking space opposite, screeched to a halt, spinners flying, and a little hip-hop twat in shit jeans and a spirit-level flat baseball cap balanced precariously on his cashew-nut like head. I took an instant dislike to him, but didn't realise who it was until it was pointed out to me. Once I was told, my curse of action became clear. I had to make him look like a prick in front of bright orange bird and the assorted public. As is often the way, the idea was good, but the planning (owing to booze) was a little less than perfect.

I lowered my trousers to cock level, untucked my shirt and threw my best hip-hop attitude; gangsta hands, the lot. Bredren, I was da bomb, innit. No bloodclat little fool called Robert was gonna act da man around me, you get it? You see why my plan was flawed from the start, no doubt.

I got some paper, scribbled a vague note about trying not to be such a useless wanker in front of goal this season and promising to park more responsibly, folded it in half to obscure the message and walked inside to get him to sign the bottom. I was then going to scan it and send it to everywhere I could think of (including b3ta, I guess).

Thus equipped, I strutted in, and in a pseudo-Jamaican/Hackney accent I introduced myself;

"Yo, homie. You gonna sign this for me then?"

Earnshaw quickly picked up on my hostility and mockery. He gestured towards my hand, I passed him the paper. He opened it, read it, said I was a sucker.

"Fuck off, you dickhead" he said, finally.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Thu 8 Oct 2009, 15:43, 4 replies)

Just thought of one.
My ex-boyfiends father went to some kind of lecture about something clever. Well there was a question posed and who ever answered it correctly got a prize. Well, the former bf's father got it right and got the prize. So, flash forward - one Sunday afternoon, nice family chat father is retelling the story . And what was the prize to shake Mary Archer's hand, no less. My reply was and you wipe your arse with that hand.

Okay, I might not have been rude to a celeb, but I did get to be rude to one of the most obnoxious men I have ever had the misfortue to meet.
(Free pens 100, 101, 102 is still counting on, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 15:42, Reply)

Well I'm not the kind to kiss and tell...

but I've been seen with Farah.
I've never been with anything less than a nine so fine.
I've been on fire with Sally Fields
gone fast with a girl named Bo
but somehow they just don't end up as mine.
(Mr Twisty Cheeky The worst kept secret in B3ta..., Thu 8 Oct 2009, 15:42, 3 replies)