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This is a question Shit Claims to Fame II

My car was in the Specsavers advert with the old lady and the loud stereo. Not me. My stupid blue Nissan Micra. Tell us about your brushes with fame.

Suggested by Amorous Badger

(, Thu 20 Sep 2012, 15:49)
Pages: Latest, 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, ... 1

This question is now closed.

OMD? OMG! The ‘Um Bongo’ Incident...

Too many short answers! Please allow me to balance it out with some longwinded wank.

I used to work for a newspaper and once got the late, great Frankie Howerd to say something like ‘Titter ye not’ or ‘Ooooh what a blunder’ (I can’t remember which catchphrase exactly, I was pisstarded at the time). He was very nice though.

I was once forcibly thrown out of a hospital by Princess Michael of Kent’s security guard because I didn’t know the press etiquette, wandered into a restricted ward and started snapping photos of her over some patient’s bed. Damn Paparazzi...I am thee!

However, my very favourite claim to fame had nothing to do with my job. It was 24th August 1991. I went to see Simple Minds play at the Milton Keynes Bowl (don’t judge me fuckers!). On the day they were supported by the Stranglers and OMD. We had queued early and got to the very front. Being responsible kids, we also had our packed lunches with us as it was going to be a long day. Everything was going tickety, however, when OMD came on, they seemed to have a bit of a problem. The crowd weren’t very appreciative and there was some booing. They also suffered technical problems and they started a bit of a diva act, shrugging their shoulders and blaming the poor techies etc. The booing increased, they were getting considerably narked and decided to turn on the audience and insult us somewhat. 'Unwise' I thought. Finally they got their act together and started running through their ‘hits’ (typolol, I meant ‘shit’). But by then the crowd were against them, and they didn’t exactly love the crowd back.

To be fair to him, lead singer Andy McClusky didn’t take this lightly and he started fucking about, enraging everybody ever further. Inevitably the objects started flying at him. He just stuck his two fingers up and wound everyone up even more. In the end he climbed down off the stage (which was no mean feat – there was quite a gap and then a load of scaffolding to negotiate) and ran past the haters at the front, holding out his arm and ‘slapping’everyone as he ran past. By this time, people were veins-popping-out-of-the-head angry. I could see people grabbing out at him with clenched fists and punches being thrown by increasingly lairy folk. He just danced out of the way and smirked.

Eventually, he decided enough was enough, and satisfied with his pisstaking of the audience, he went to clamber back on to the stage. He climbed aboard the scaffolding easily enough as the fuming audience continued to roar their disapproval. However, as he was trying to get up the final section on to the stage, he struggled a bit. As I watched him flap, I don’t know what came over me. I just looked down at my lunchbox, took out my carton of Um Bongo, and hurled it at him as hard as I could.

This was from quite a way away, and I’m a shit shot at the best of times. My only explanation is 'I just got lucky’. At the exact moment he finally climbed aboard the stage and stood up, the carton hit him squarely on the back of the head. He was still unbalanced and this assault via Um Bongo missile was just enough to send him sprawling, star-shaped over the floor of the stage.

60,000 people erupted into a huge cheer. As Mr McClusky rolled around the stage, people began patting me on the back and congratulating me on my accuracy with a fruit based drink. It’s the closest I’ve ever got to actually being famous myself. Nowadays doing that sort of shite would at least get you a slot on a reality show or something.

TL;DR – Twat tries twatting about in front of 60,000 people. Another twat twats him
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 10:21, 8 replies)
Many years ago,
I went to the Gambia in Africa with my parents over the Christmas period.

We were there for two weeks and it was possibly the hottest place I've ever been. I spent most of the time running around on the beach playing football and playing with other kids from the hotel, but didn't realise that in hot weather, you become dehydrated very quickly and this can have adverse consequences.

A few days into the holiday, i got the shits really, really bad - proper weapons-grade diarrhea; It's the only time in my life that i've actually shat in a bed.

This lasted for about 3 days until on Christmas day itself, i was confident that i wasn't going to drop bombs all over the place without warning. On Christmas day, the residents of the hotel were invited for Christmas dinner on the beach. Me and my family went down to the beach and sat down, when we realised that just a short distance away was the BBC Newsround Team and the one and only John Craven filming a section on Christmas in Africa.

My parents thought it would be a great idea to have dinner and then go watch them filming and try to maybe grab a couple of pictures with Craven himself; so, we had our dinner and then made our way over to seafront to see if we could get on tv.

All was well, but eating such rich food was starting to make my stomach gurgle something fierce. When we got to where the crew was filming, Jon Craven was already chatting to other people and had virtually finished doing his bits to camera. My Dad approached him and asked would he mind having a few pictures taken with me and my sister, and he duly obliged; he even said he had one bit to camera left to do and asked if we'd like to be on camera with him and a group of other kids for the 'goodby from Africa' part of the VT. AWESOME!

So, we all get into shot around Craven, the camera starts rolling, and he does his bit to camera and all the kids - including me - jump and shout 'Goodbye!' enthusiastically....

... A little bit too enthusiastically in my case, as i proceeded to shit myself.

My one appearance on national TV and I shit myself. Happy Christmas.
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 12:08, 2 replies)
My brother came to visit me in Merseyside
I was DETERMINED to impress him with my well-hard 'connections,' so took him to a bar that, I assured him, was “proper gangster.”
“Oh yeah, the landlord’s a monster. Huge fella, done hard time. Big name in the underworld. One of those faces you kind of recognise cos his mugshot's been everywhere. Me and him are sound though, proper sound.”
We arrived, got a drink from him in total silence, and went and sat down.
“Proper gangster then is he?” my brother asked.
“Oh yeah, done some big jobs. BIG jobs. We go way back though, don't worry about it.”

“It’s Warrior out of Gladiators you fucking spastic.”
(, Thu 20 Sep 2012, 16:43, 3 replies)
Sat next to Kate Lonergan (of Maid Marian and Her Merry Men fame) on the train from Manchester to London
She shared the haul of booze she'd just bought from M&S with me and we talked about that awesome show the whole way. Best train journey ever.

She signed the book on pirates I was reading for me (complete with arrow doodle) and gave me a kiss goodbye. I think it was meant for my cheek, but weirdly ended up on my chops after some awkward head movements. Not that I'd complain, had a massive crush on her when I was in school.
(, Thu 20 Sep 2012, 16:21, 3 replies)
I danced with Boris Johnson
I say with. More at.
He was hurrying past the steps of the library in Oxford. I was outside having a fag.
I saw him and yelled 'BORRIISSS!' at the top of my voice.
He turned round and looked at me. I hadn't planned this far ahead.
So I jigged awkwardly from foot to foot and sang 'do do do do dooo' whilst splaying my hands out like a minstrel.

He raised his hand in acknowledgement of my dance and carried on.
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 20:40, 1 reply)
I went to see the Prodigy once,
and outside afterwards a journalist walked up and told us that due to having to shoot off to cover a warehouse fire across town, he didn't need his 3 aftershow party tickets and was giving them to us.

I was queuing at the bar for ages trying to get a drink and being ignored, muttering under my breath and the like when a hand slapped me on the shoulder followed by Keith Flint leaning past me and shouting at a barmaid 'Serve this guy next, he's been here ages' before giving me a nod and fucking off.

I got 3 rounds in at once so I wouldn't have to go back as I suspected this would not happen again.
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 12:46, 6 replies)
Who is that fat bastard?
I was stood outside the World's End in Camden, while thoroughly twatted off my face on massive drugs.

I was desperately clinging onto a railing to avoid floating away when I spotted Alexi Sale walking towards me.

I caught his eye and he did a bit of a "oo fuck, he's recognised me, he's going to talk to me, look away! Look away!" thing.

As he was passing me, I went "hey! you're .... erm... you're that... errrr" mostly because I couldn't remember his damn name. He started to say "Yeah, I'm..." when I shouted "Benito Mussolini!"

he burst out laughing and said "Yeah mate, but if you smnack me in the face for invading Crete, I won't be happy"

He then saw my predicament (I was proper fucked) and offered to pay for a taxi. I refused and he went about his merry way.

Once he got a couple of yards away, I shouted "Fascist!" in my best "Neil" voice and he turned round and flicked me the Vs...
(, Tue 25 Sep 2012, 12:45, Reply)
I worked in a Restaurant attached to a little posh deli,
all cheese and posh meat and that. Good old Jeremy Paxman was a regular in the Deli for his cheese and would occasionally pop in to the Restaurant bar, and have a glass of wine before wandering off to go and interrogate some ingrate or other.
One afternoon, I was on a split shift, and sat at the bar having a coffee and doing the crossword. In strolls Paxman, sits down, gets a glass of wine and pulls out the same paper, and cracks on with the crossword. It's clear from where I'm sat that he's struggling a little (a surprise to me) and, after thinking it over a few times, proffer some help. I don't remember my exact words, but I think it was something along the lines of "Alright, how you getting on?" while waving the offending cryptic word puzzle in his direction. There was a long pause, combined with a stare that was almost like he was trying to decide whether to eat my eyeballs or my ears first, and then he just said; "What the fuck is 4 down?" I wish I remembered what it was, but I don't, but I had the answer then, and there began a jolly hour battering through the crossword with one of the most intimidating interviewers on the TV.
(, Sun 23 Sep 2012, 3:13, Reply)
Robert Downey Jr's two veg
Readers, you may recall the first of the recent spate of Sherlock films when it came out several years ago. You may also recall a scene where Sherlock and Watson chase a villain through the streets, barging past people going about their business. At one point, they overturn a cart full of fresh vegetables. Gentle reader - I ate the cabbages on that cart. In fact, they became a most wonderful sausage and vegetable stew.

(This part of Sherlock was filmed - as many big budget productions are - at Greenwich Naval College in London. The place becomes a giant film set, mostly closed off to the public. But my friend used to work in a shop on site and took pity on all that poor veg, about to be thrown away, and brought it back to a good home.)
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 15:01, 2 replies)
I do clinical trials and once mistook Rik Mayall for a dirty old man.
and one such trial involved me not only pretending to be japanese for three weeks, but having PET scans regularly. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Positron_emission_tomography for those who'd like to read more. Considering the type of trial, I had to be escorted everywhere by a nurse. We're in the shop outside Hammersmith hospital killing time waiting for a scan and my nurse nudges me and points towards an unkempt, unshaven man in a long black coat staying intently at the top shelf of the magazine aisle. I said to my nurse god he looks like a ropey character". He heard us an looked around. I back peddled and he started taking the piss. He was there for brain scan after his quad bike accident. He was nice, very animated and called me "a mental" for being a human guinea pig!

Oh and Shane McGowan punched me in the face on stage in front of my mum, but i'll save that for another time!
(, Mon 24 Sep 2012, 11:13, 6 replies)
Not me but a friend of mine
Is from Vancouver, called Mike, and isn't overly aware of UK TV goings-on, despite my giving him copies of Peep Show, Spaced and such. He has an uncle who lives near Southampton, and he and his immediate family went to visit last Xmas.

So come New Year's Eve he breaks away from the family bosom and goes to get shit-faced in London with fellow fixed gear cyclists (I told you he's from Vancouver). Back in China, he was telling me about it.

"It was awesome!" He's enthusiastic like that. He even thinks the Star Wars prequels are good. "I got drunk with a famous actor!"

"Ooh, who?" I asked.

"I don't remember... but after the guy left everybody told me how famous he was!"

"Well, what was he in?!"

"I don't remember! But it's really popular!"

"Mmmkay... so what does he DO?"

"He sits in a chair and shouts!"


A swift Google Image search confirms that my friend Mike had indeed got drunk with Frank Kelly.
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 9:00, 2 replies)
My great-grandfather was apparently an inventor, of the Wallace and Gromit variety.
So, when a smallish confectionery business known as Nestle (trivia: they added the accent over the e later, as they wanted to appear sophisticated) wanted a challenging new engineering project done, somebody pointed them in the direction of this talented local inventor.

So it was that my great-grandfather designed and built the original mould for the Walnut Whip.

(, Tue 25 Sep 2012, 19:59, 24 replies)
The Berlin Wall
My shit claim to fame is that I was at the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989...with Timmy Mallett.

The mental children's 'personality' was there, sensing that history was in the making, and that he could be there with a TV crew to get some free airtime.

Me. I was there upon instruciton from my dad, chipping away at the wall with a hammer and a screwdriver (as you do) and I noticed Mallett in the distance - he was harassing German children who didn't have a clue who he was - and stupidly shouted his name out and waved (I was young and stupid, I realise my mistake now!).

Hearing me speak English, he (and the camera crew) raced over, and he proceeded to be mental. He was hitting the wall with Mallett's Mallet (a big foam hammer, for those who don't know), and then hitting me over the head with it.
I was 6. I was being hit over the head by a mental patient with a foam hammer.

I burst into tears and ran to my mum...live on TV.

I had nightmares for years, and even now I get a cold shiver down my spine when I see that bastard's face!!
(, Sun 23 Sep 2012, 22:07, 2 replies)

I know the lady who sang the Dangermouse theme tune, that is all,
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 23:27, 2 replies)
I once dunna poo...
...and it was shaped exactly like two sea-shells, clasped together.

As I had never before experienced such a 'Brad', I called an expert to cast his opinion over this strange turn of events before I flushed it.

Bizarrely, he suggested that I set up an agricultural concern, and that I use this ‘prototype’ to breed other, likewise lumps of my Dame Thora.

His quote was: "That’s a shit clam to farm"

*dies inside*
(, Wed 26 Sep 2012, 14:05, 3 replies)
I did Bjork up the wrong 'un in a Poundland in Romford.
Oh no, wait...that was a dream I had.
(, Sat 22 Sep 2012, 21:43, Reply)
Patrick Moore!
EDIT: Not shit, but still pretty awesome!

After going on a trip to Chichester Planetarium due to G&T project in my county, I wwas invited on a trip to Patrick Moore's house with 7 other people. We used his telescopes, ate nibbles, and listened to his genuinely funny stories.

Turns out, because he's now too old and frail , he's not accepting school visits anymore.

As I was last out his lovely 16th century house (I remember having to close his door on his cat airlock as he didn't want his cats escaping) , I was the last child to ever visit his house on an educational course.

I also used his toilet.
(, Sat 22 Sep 2012, 20:05, 5 replies)
I embarrassed Billie Piper (I think)
I was in the backstage bit at a festival a few years back (the bit with a bar and a BBQ and nice toilets, which was nice), around about the time she'd just started on Dr. Who. Her and David Tennant and a bunch of other people came in, and were standing around having a drink by the bar.

I sidled over and stood right behind Billie. 'Excuse Me'. no reaction. 'Excuse Me'. She still ignored me. 'Excuse Me'...

Obviously giving up and deciding that I was some annoying fan who was going to have to be dealt with, she turned around and gave me a great big smile and a 'Hello!'.

'Sorry - can you get out of my way please, I'm just trying to get to the bar.'

She looked pretty deflated.

I hate people who block the bar.
(, Thu 20 Sep 2012, 16:36, 3 replies)
My car, the attention whore
I've got a blue Nissan Micra. SHUT UP. When I bought the thing out of sheer empty-pocketed desperation, I had to wait for a week to pick it up (and got a discount) because "a production company is using it to film an advert".

Oh, that's nice.

Imagine my surprise, then, to see it several weeks later in this here advertisement for Specsavers.

Yes, I've got That Granny Car.

No, the stereo isn't that loud.

And yes, it failed the MOT the following year because the suspension was fucked. Also, the dead granny tied up in the boot.
(, Thu 20 Sep 2012, 16:06, Reply)
I once got to the national finals of a fancy dress competition
the really embarrassing part?

It was a Star Wars fancy dress competition.

...and I was a 14 year old girl.
(, Tue 25 Sep 2012, 21:51, 5 replies)
Damnation of Faust
A couple of years ago my employer was just about to announce a joint project with the ex-Python turned director Terry Gilliam. We have a large meeting room roughly twenty feet away from where I'm sat right now, where the great man and our creative team were putting am opera together.

I've bumped into him a few times around our corridors and have exchanged hellos with him, which is very difficult to do when you feel an impulse to give in to a Wayne's World type moment. Anyway, back to the story.

A couple of our technical team members turned up and were a tad miffed at having no suitable venue to hold their meeting.

"Nothing's booked on the schedule. Just who the fuck is in there anyway?" one of them asked me.

"Terry Gilliam" I replied.

Sensing my opportunity I dropped the obvious follow up.

"And he's a very naughty boy".
(, Tue 25 Sep 2012, 11:36, Reply)
I don't care who you are, you're in the way
Around 1990, I was wrestling an enormous flight-case containing electric-make-music-loud stuff onto the side of a big stage in Berkshire. Someone was in the way. I requested that they allow us egress. And that is how I came to say "Get out the way you stupid fucking twat" to Mick Jagger.
(, Mon 24 Sep 2012, 18:40, Reply)
My mate Steve worked in a Government Health lab after leaving scholl in the early '80s.

His unbeatable claim to fame was having to look through a microscope at a high vaginal swab from TV dog trainer Barbara Woodhouse.
(, Sun 23 Sep 2012, 18:05, 3 replies)
Who was happier? Him cos he was realised from prison or me cos I was on telly?
In 1974 cemetery groundskeeper, Stephen Downing was convicted of the brutal murder of Wendy Sewell. After serving 27 years in high security prisons across the country his conviction was overturned at the royal courts of justice. Out of the front of the court came a frail man, beaten by the system but finally victorious. His first moments of freedom, a mixture of emotion and bitterness at the gross miscarriage of justice. As he steps into the road he is met by surviving family, hoarders of the press and...me! I happened to be passing after a long late and boozy lunch. Not knowing the seriousness of the case I can clearly be seen waving to the cameras and smiling. Twat.
(, Sat 22 Sep 2012, 17:55, Reply)
My brother and I have both been recorded on number 1 records
Both were recorded at the same place, the Coventry Locarno*, some years apart.
Admittedly our voices are part of the crowd sounds but we were there when the recordings were made! I was there when The Specials recorded 'Too much too young' and big bro was there when Chuck Berry recorded 'My Ding-a-ling'.
I think mine has more street cred.

*Now the central library.
(, Sat 22 Sep 2012, 9:07, 1 reply)
I was on international TV a year ago.
Obama came to Richmond to give a speech at the University of Richmond. The missus and I got down there in time to get four tickets, and brought a friend with us.

As we stood in line a statuesque blonde in a severe navy blue suit was walking through the crowd, eyes turning this way and that, and suddenly focused on me. "Excuse me, how many people are with you?"

"Three," I replied, gesturing to my wife and our friend.

"May I see your tickets?"

Uh oh, am I about to get bounced for some reason? Shit. "Uh, sure. Here you go. Is anything wrong?"

"No, not at all. I'll just put these stickers on them. When you go in show them to the people at the gate and they'll direct you."


We got up there and the girl at the gate gave me a beaming smile and told me to go to Gate 22, around the other side of the stadium. We walked, noticing that there were damn few people walking in our direction, and were shown through a doorway. Puzzled, I went down the stairs to the front row...

...and found myself about fifteen feet from the back of the podium where the man himself was to appear.

It was a good speech, of course, and we applauded at the appropriate moments. My wife guesses that we were chosen because I was a middle-class looking white guy in casual clothes (a blue Oxford shirt and white shorts) and would look good mixed in with the well dressed crowd of African Americans who sat around and behind us. When he turned to leave my wife gave him two thumbs up and he responded by giving her the trademark pointing and smiling.

If you go here www.richmond.edu/obama/ and play the slideshow at the bottom, in one picture where he's at the podium you can see me behind him and to the left in my blue shirt and white shorts, standing out like a neon sign.

People my wife knows in Kuwait saw her on BBC Persia and recognized her. I was also briefly visible as an applauding speck on the Daily Show.

Famous for a couple of seconds, anyway...
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 22:42, Reply)
I was the back of Harry Potters head...
Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone (Sorcerers Stone if you're a Merkin).
I was Daniel Radcliffe's body double, which basically meant whenever you see Harry in the film, but you can't see his face, it's me.

They are (or were) all really nice kids and we all got along really well, Tom Felton (Draco Malfoy) was genuinely hilarious and we played a lot of Tony Hawks 2 on the play-stations that Warner Brothers provided us, as if the sheer amount of literal wizardry going on around us wasn't enough to keep us entertained. It always sounds holier than thou when I talk about it but it genuinely was one of the best things I have ever been involved with and was so much fun to be a part of.

My Mum was an extra in Diagon Alley and to this day still tells people "I was in Harry Potter, but I don't like to talk about it" as if it is her hilarious catch phrase. The scene she was in was actually cut, but she insists at pointing at the telly when it's on saying "That's me there" pointing at a dark corner of the screen. She is even going to buy this ridiculous £200 36 disc complete collection based on the tiniest of possibilities she may be in some of the "never before seen footage".

This was 12 years ago and I still ride along on the coattails of my 11 year old self's glory!
It's just slightly emotionally crippling that my face wasn't good enough and the film is actually not that good.

Oh and my brother was the real boy laying on the floor at the end of the NSPCC "Cartoon boy" advert and my other brother was the Barnardo's "Heroin Baby".

Sorry for...wizardry.
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 12:45, Reply)
I once farted in a lift that I was sharing with Peter Beardsley...
... It was a particularly loud, long and potent fart. No words were exchanged, but he did glare at me as if he wanted to kill me.
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 9:11, 1 reply)

I purposely didn't wash my hands after going for a wee knowing full well Tony Blair was coming with a media crew for shakey hands opportunies. That was in 2001 and probably directly led to his downfall.
(, Fri 21 Sep 2012, 7:18, Reply)
I win
I've got a football signed by Windsor Davies.
(, Thu 20 Sep 2012, 20:22, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

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