john barnes
if i had a squid for every time someone told me i look like john barnes....i'd have 2 quid. No seriuosly, all my fecking life its been

them:do you know who you look like

me: no (i play along with it)

them: john barnes

me: really?

them: yes

me: do you want to see john barnes's nuts?

them: no

me: im getting them out anyway

sometimes when i pre-empt the answer with john barnes, they are like "yes!, really how did you guess?!!". then they think im a smug bastard who's up his own arse. although saying that, a few people have said daley thompson, which is bizarre. i think i should try some random responses just to see people reactions..the duke of marlborough, pee wee herman etc.

John fucking Barnes, with his loud suits and the presenting skills of a hostage reading a ransom note. still, sweet left foot and a great football player though. could be worse i guess, i could look like david beckham. poncy faggot! i think i prefer barnes...am i sad? (dont answer that!, although i secretly want you to..i think. im confused).
(CaptainFellatioNelson is trying to kill me, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 15:39, Reply)

Interesting this
I have been told I look like Ewan McGregor and a young Patrick Swayze as of Dirty Dancing fame. Great.

Why the fuck can't I get a girlfriend :(
(The_Reaper, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 15:39, Reply)

Mistaken identity on the roads.
A couple of years ago im driving down the road and suddenly saw my mums car. I thought what the hell is she doing this side of town? I was suspisious! So i overtakes some more cars to get closer. Sits on the bumper of my mums car flashing and beeping and waving frantically HELLOOO!!. No real response. so i get up to the side of the car.. HIIIIIII!!!! To see some old bloke driving looking rather worried. Hmm whys some old guy driving my mums car? I thought oh my god my mums car has been stolen!

So i followed him for half an hour, he got on the motorway and started going very fast. So i chased him. I called my mum (hands free of course) "mum ive found the car im chasing it right now!" "what the hell are you on about? My car is sat on the drive" "eh??" A closer inspection of the number plate indicated L836 and not L936 that my mums was. Other than that, the car was identical, same colour, same model.

So if mr L836 is reading this then sorry dude!
(Miggyman, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 15:33, Reply)

How the old folks met...
Mother sat at the bar aged 24...

Father walks up:

"Hi, would you like to dance?"

"Wow, do you know who you look like.."

"..Steve Davis?"

"Yeah!"

Yes, my dad looked like Steve Davis but now he looks like Alex Ferguson. I don't know how he has pulled off being a lookalike of two completely different people.
( Regger, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 15:23, Reply)

One for the oldies...
when shopping at cheshire oaks (out of town chav-me-up-for-£30 retail park) i turned to my wife as i had seen someone famous.

He was about 16 feet in front of us - face-to-face and with no-one inbetween - and we needed to move to let him past.

I say "look - its Simon Weston"

She says - "which one is he?"
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Mon 4 Jun 2007, 15:13, Reply)

Renton
Nice to know that my friends at the time thought I looked like a thieving junky.
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 14:43, Reply)

I nearly got arrested after somebody
thought I was someone else. I'm not exactly svelte but at the same time I'm not a rotund sweat-a-thon snooker professional like Stephen Lee. They told me this. I told them I wasn't. He argued with me - yes, ARGUED - that I was in fact Stephen Lee.

Don't try to square up to them when they're telling you this outside a police station.

In Hull.

And they're a copper.
( TGP on the rock 'n' roll, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 14:25, Reply)

Fuming in the Car
This happened to a mate of mine.

He was out with his family at a shopping mall. They were there to pick up his little sister. Since they couldn't find a carpark, they double parked and instructed my mate (Mike) to run inside and get her.

Being a solidly built angry 22 yer old bloke into his heavey metal, Mike didn't want to. His dad was in the drivers seat and his mum was in the back. After 10 min of heated debate by all he stormed out of the car to go fetch his sister...slamming the door behind him.

He couldn't find her in the cafe she said she'd be at so he walked back outside, into the car (passenger side) and yelled "I can't find her". He slammed the door shut and sat there with his arms crossed, staring out the passenger window.

After about 30 seconds of complete silence he looked around, only to find TWO elderly strangers staring at him wide eyed, motionless and completely terrified!

He'd of course got into the wrong car...his dad had gone round the block to see if he could find a car space. He apologised and left the vehicle...being a bit more gentle on the door this time.
(Markygee Surname: "Balls". First name: "Lick-mah", Mon 4 Jun 2007, 14:23, Reply)

Wasnt me but...


Nuff said really!
(nibbles, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 14:09, Reply)

Lock Stock and Two Flaring Nostrils (or Not The Transporter)
Golden Square in Soho is home to Virgin Radio, numerous advertising agencies and some production houses.

I was in the employment of one of the ad agencies about 5 years ago and having worked late one evening, I ordered a car to take me home.

The car company that we used had a fleet of identical black Ford Galaxy MPVs. I strolled out of the Agency and into the car waiting outside the front door.

As I buckled up for the road ahead, the driver turned round with flared nostrils and asked me to get out.

It was Jason Statham (then poking Kelly Brook) loyally awaiting the return of said Missus from Virgin Radio.
(MrKeith, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 13:54, Reply)

child
When I was 5 years old I got lost in a supermarket and a lovely young couple mistook me for their child and helped me to the front exit. We were just leaving when my dad came running behind shouting and took me back.

It was only recently I remembered this and realised I was almost abducted.
( Regger, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 13:49, Reply)

I have
been told that I look like Arnold Rimmer and, hilariously, Orlando Bloom.

I don't look like either. Seriously. Well, definitely not Bloom. Actually, the same person who says I look like Bloom also says I'm blond. I'm not. I have brown hair.
( Kroney, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 13:45, Reply)

.
Trevor McDonald. Could be worse, I suppose. Except,I have a brown complexion, not black, am 23, and actually good looking.
(drain_bamaged, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 13:43, Reply)

My mum
My mum likes to snoop around other people's houses. Living in a village with a lot of new builds, she has had plenty of opportunity to do this.

One day, she was out for a walk and passed a new house that was being finished off. The door was open and there was a painter in the hall (painting it, unsurprisingly). My mum knew that the decorators usually didn't mind 'prospective buyers' wandering around the new houses, so she merrily breezed in and commenced her tour.

It was only when the bloke asked her to leave that she realised her case of mistaken identity - he was actually the new owner.
(Pachey, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 13:33, Reply)

bored
of this now
(angelica666, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 13:24, Reply)

last week
I was carrying a package for a mate of mine who is in the police force.
He told me not to open it, just to deliver it to his office, and to be careful becuase it was fragile.

Anywho, as I was tottering along the road, I was knocked over by a tall, rather bulky man running for the bus.

After shouting out my indignation rather accutely, I looked down to find the package had opened and broken in the fracas!

It was then I realised I was in possesion of a mis-shapen identikit
(tarbin tarbis, tarbit, tarbamus, tarbimus, tarbant, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 13:09, Reply)

Unlikeness
An old nickname was Winston (as in Eggbert from the sweet valley high series) and I keep getting told I look like Hugh Grant, which either means he looks very young or I look rough as a badgers nadgers. Personally I think it's the centre parting and posh accent.
(Tix Keeper of the Smurf, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 13:08, Reply)

Sophie
I have been told...on more than a million occasions...that I look like Sophie Ellis-Bextor (only I have a few extra pounds on her!). Yays! :) Shame she is a crap singer, but then so am I!
(NJ, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 13:04, Reply)

Oasis
A gang of young kids, willed on by their parents, once mistook me for Liam Gallagher whilst I was waiting for a train in Manchester. I even signed autographs for them.

I look like a young Rolf Harris. I have no idea what they were thinking.
(mudflaps, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 12:49, Reply)

my identity
is mistaken it says im ronnie corbett
(branflakes, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 12:13, Reply)

Stuck in a traffic jam yesterday...
Trying to avoid a rather large traffic delay yesterday just outside Henley-on-Thames, my friends and I decided to ask TomTom to redirect us along the nearest available route. The lane we took was a bit narrow in places but on the whole it was ok. As we neared the rowing club the lane bottlenecked due to parked cars and we were sat in a huge queue of traffic with nowhere to go. Next to us and trying to go in the opposite direction was a rather annoyed local woman who kept muttering to herself about how this was not a cut-through for any old riff raff....she then turned to face us and said, "I'm sorry, but this is a local road for local people" to which I replied...."I'm sorry, you've mistaken me for someone who actually gives a fuck!!"....Pretentious cow!!!!!!

- joke about length and girth here -
(jidler changed his name on, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 12:11, Reply)

Bizzare
I love music and organ music (yeah yeah, finarr finarr) and enjoy going into churches or cathedrals and feeling that bass roll up to me and wash over and through me. Like a centuries old Leftfield.
I hitch hiked across the good old USofA when I was 19/20 and there was a new cathedral in San Francisco with spectacular architecture and thuderous organ. By the way, I think religion is a load of bollox but some of their buildings and tunes are damn amazing.
So I sat one afternoon at the back of the pews waiting for a recital. It was pretty empty. There was a middle aged women sat at the front and as there was no one else sat down I was drawn to focus on the back of her head. She suddenly turned around, looked at me with horror, crossed herself and and whipped back around then sat motionless.
I hadn't realised my horns and forked tail were showing. I mean, WTF?!? Just goes to show how completely and utterly bonkers religion is.

I'll just get me tambourine.
(Dellamorte Dellamore Fuck it all, fuck it up, fuck it., Mon 4 Jun 2007, 12:03, Reply)

Bad hair
When I was eleven or so I got fed up with having long hair so I decided to get it cut very short indeed. I my mistake was that I had seen such pictures of women with short hair in various so-called style magazines and wanted to be like them, but I suspect the magazines were several years out of date (mid-eighties instead of early 90s) - ooops.

Anyway, I spent a year with everyone thinking I was a boy, and it also coincided with leaving primary school for the horrors of secondary education, so although I grew my hair out as quickly as possible, everyone remembered I was the girl with very short bad hair and no one would date me for, like, five years. Although come to think of it, I did follow the short-boy-hair with a perm so full of mousse it crackled on a windy day instead of blew about, so that could've been part of the reason.

My brother still mocks me now about it, reminding me of the many times we'd be out walking with dad and someone he knew would stop to chatter and comment on what lovely sons he had, or when I got told off for going in the girls toilets at the Science Museum by an over zealous security guard.

Still, now I have long lovely hair and also big boobs, so no one thinks I'm a boy now... woo hoo!
( hanabanana, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 11:59, Reply)

Nutty professor
When I first left school I worked as a dental technician and was forced to go on day release to dental school. I'd rather have been in the lab with me mates (we smoked weed all day) but I didn't have much choice.
My main professor took a disliking to me on the first day (no idea why) and preceded to give me shit marks on all my work and would even break up models of things I'd made and make me do them again.
Anyway, I found my life was a lot easier if I skipped his classes occasionally. After a while I found my life was ALOT easier if I just turned up to be registered and then went home and smoked weed all day, listening to music.
Skip forward a couple of months and I thought I'd better go in and show my face. I went to all the classes, made some mock up models (which thankfully he didn't break this time) and went off home feeling like I'd done something good.
When I turned up at work the next day I was dragged into the bosses office and given a thourough bollocking for not going to college the day before. The professor had called up and told my boss he'd seen me sneaking out of college and going home.
Luckily, in my bag I had the models and work I'd done from the day before (all with yesterdays date on them + marked and signed by the professor).
My boss apologised, then called up the professor and bollocked him over the phone.
Turns out there was somebody else in the same class as me with the same christian name. I hadn't noticed, but he'd also been bunking off everyday and the nutty old bastard had got us confused (fuck knows how as the other guy looked like Mr Logic and I'm more like George Clooney, but with a much more defined body).
(EvilMeister, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 11:56, Reply)

I Get mistaken for God
quite a lot actually.
usually during sex, women tend to scream out."Oh God I'm coming!"
I don't want to ruin the moment so I just let them think that...

I also get the,"Oh God it's so big,"comment but again, I get to put it where I want so I just shut the f&^* up...
(Bluffboy South Africa! World Champions!!!, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 11:47, Reply)

Not too long ago, my girlfriend and I had gone to Liverpool
with a few of her friends, and had found a pub to have a quick refresher in. Just by the door was a group of about 4 middle-aged men, and they started murmuring their approval as the not unattractive group of ladies entered, with me bringing up the rear. I feel I must point out that at this time I had shoulder length hair. The murmurings from the men went as follows.

(My Girlfriend enters)
"Oohhh..oh yes"
(Her friends enter)
"Cor...look at that"
(I enter)
"Phwo...uh?"

We left the entire pub quietly laughing into their pints.
( Mr.Ons knows you can hear him, Earthmen., Mon 4 Jun 2007, 11:11, Reply)

I went to school with my doppelganger
he was three years above me and at some point during his time in the education system he had aquired the unshakeable nickname of "Pob", so for four years I got called "Little Pob" by anyone who knew him. It didn't help that we're both called Rob, either. He even worked as a barman in my local for a bit, and when I turned up for a beer my friends did a double-take because they thought I had been serving them for the past couple of rounds.

I got off with his sister too, which was probably pretty weird, for her at least.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 11:08, Reply)

we had my mother-in-law round this week
she walked to the local shop and back
and on her return said 'you haven't just been driving a white van, have you?'

i had not

it seems someone who looked exactly like me had driven past her, beeped and waved.
The weiredset thing about it that she's american, so it's not like she's a familiar face round these parts
( mictoboy shitting in your cunt since, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 10:45, Reply)

3 cheers for Koreans
On a biz trip to Seoul with a colleague from the UK, we are taken out to dinner to some posh restaurant in the middle of Seoul. As we walk in to the place, it turns out our Korean partner, more in jest than anything else, tells the maitre d' that I am Kevin Costner and my colleague is Paul Simon.

Kevin looks like Kevin. I am "stocky" with receeding, short, curly brown hair.....think more Silent Bob (with curly hair) .... And my mate does NOT look like Paul Simon.

Anyway, word clearly filters around the entire restaurant, and by the time dessert is served, I have a queue by the table and am obliged to spend 20 fucking minutes signing autographs to giggling girls and star-struck fathers.

My host is laughing his arse off, as are the rest of us after a while, but I can only imagine the Korean folk all rushing home and putting on Dances with Wolves or some such and wondering exactly how many pounds the camera adds to you, and that Kevin clearly wears an awful lot of make up when making his films.

Once the meal was over, we went wandering the streets of Seoul, only to be followed at a distance of about 30 metres by another group of giggling girls. Odd, to say the least.

Shoulda woulda coulda, but had biz partner with me and I would have got in trouble from the hotel people too I think.

Curse you Costner!
(Spreddum O Grrrr. That's my vicious circle, that is., Mon 4 Jun 2007, 10:38, Reply)