That fat bloke off the TV.....
A few years ago after returning from the US a few pounds heavier I was constantly mistkae for Jeremy Spake! I mean do I look like a russian queen FFS!!!

Then I put on a few more pounds (actually I am just over 23 stone, cant be bothered to work it out in kilos) and I now get..."You look like the fat bloke from Bowling For Soup" which I dont mind in the least!
(Dr Mandingo isn't particularly bothered...., Wed 6 Jun 2007, 12:37, Reply)

Male, wearing glasses and with long hair?
Well you are bound to be accused of being a John Lennon look alike at some point in your life.
I look nothing like the dead beetle, doesnt stop every old foggy / customs official accusing me of looking like him.

My friend was mistaken for his father(they share the same initials) when we went to the US in 2001. Apparently his dad had visited earlier that year, got caught for speeding and promptly buggered off home again.

Another friend when he removes his glasses and squints looks just like the banjo kid from Deliverance.
( M o D, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 12:10, Reply)

Mistaken house
When I was at uni I lived in a shared house on a fairly busy street. It was the most interesting bit of a fairly quiet town and had some nice pubs which meant that it had its fair share of pissed passers-by.

3am on Monday morning, the buzzer on my intercom started going insane. Pulling the duvet over my head I tried to ignore it since pissed-up chavs had quite often rung the bell in the middle of the night just for a "laugh". However, after about 5 minutes of incesssant buzzing I realised that the person leaning on the button wasn't going away of their own accord so I picked up the entryphone..

ff_m: Yeah?

Drunken female voice: Daaaaaave! Is that Dave?! [my name is not Dave]

ff_m: No, it's not Dave, I think you've got the wrong house.

DFV: No I haven't. I know that's you Daaaaave!

ff_m: Seriously I'm not Dave.

DFV: Well I know he's there I want to talk to Dave.

ff_m: There's noone called Dave living here, nor has there ever been. You really have got the wrong place. Stop ringing the bell.

At this stage I went back to bed and pulled the duvet over my head again. The buzzing stopped for at least 10 seconds until:

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!

ff_m: What?

DFV: Daaaaaaaave!

Putting down the entry phone I walked to the front door to be confronted with, predictably, a drunk looking woman.

ff_m: Look! There's noone called Dave living here, I'm not messing you around, and I want to go back to sleep. Go away!

DLW: I know Dave lives here, his house is between a chinese supermarket and a newsagents!

ff_m: Is it really? Take a look to your left.

Drunk woman looks to her left and sees the chemists to one side of my house.

ff_m: And to your right.

Drunk woman looks to her right and is confronted with a Spar-type supermarket that does not look remotely chinese.

DLW: Oh I'm so sorry! I...

ff_m: Don't worry about it, goodnight. [shuts door]

I was genuinely amazed by the amount of evidence that was required to convince this woman that I was not Dave nor was this Dave's house. To this day I wonder what would have happened if I'd said "Yeah come on in Dave's upstairs."
(flimflam_machine, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 12:10, Reply)

I am...

...James Dean Bradfield from the Manic Street Preachers. I even bumped into him in Cardiff and he peered at me curiously and started brushing his face with his hand to check for blemishes.
( Regger, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 11:46, Reply)

One of my old university flatmates
looked like one of the Proclaimers when we put a pair of NHS specs on him once. He spoke like them too, as a Fifer. I may even have a picture somewhere.

He wasn't too happy about this though, as he told us thought he looked like Alan Shearer, which caused us all to piss ourselves laughing. Personally I thought he was more like a cross between cricketer Mike Atherton and snooker player Terry Griffiths.

Now that's got you wondering!
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 11:25, Reply)

Beacause the glasses match...
I have been mistaken for the following two people based on the fact that the style of glasses I wore at the time were the same.

1. Michael Douglas in the film falling down. This being in spite of the fact that I was in my early twenties at the time and my skin fitted then and still fits now.

2. Malcolm X. To be fair, generally prefixed by the qualifier "a white" because I am white.

I guess that if I still had those glasses I'd look like "that guy off of Heroes, you know the father of the HOT little cheerleader".

Without the glasses I am alleged to look like Dermott O'Leary. So, square and shaved head. Imaginitive.

3 very similar people of course.

Length? about the same as the level of interest you have in the above ramblings... erm, nob joke.
(tdavidj, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 10:51, Reply)

Mystery Mistaken Identity...
...courtesy of some random drunken bint and her mate on a night out a couple of years ago:

HER: 'Oh I tell ya, you look just like that guy.'
ME: 'Which one?'
HER: 'Oh you know, THAT guy. From thingymebob.'
HER'S MATE: 'Yeah, you know, THAT guy'
ME: 'Um, nope, still not with you.'
HER: 'Oh come on, there can't be that many of you.'
ME: 'Guys? No, I think you'll find that there are a couple billion of us, but then I'm talking worldwide here because you've not really narrowed it down much.'
HER: 'Well I don't know his name, and you're not being very helpful, so, {shrugs in a 'blown your chance' kind of way}'
ME: 'Yeah well, as much as I'd love to be able to remember something from your own somewhat addled memory, human brains can't interact like that for the most part so, {shrugs in a 'do I look fucking bothered?' kind of way}'

And with that and a grimace, she and her mate tottered off, presumably to direct similar vacuous shite at some other poor unfortunate.

I was informed later that she was trying to chat me up (in a gay bar when I was with with a gaggle of gay mates, as if I needed more proof that she wasn't the sharpest blade in the roll) or at least get some free drinks out of me, but if that's true then it's the lamest attempt at either objective that I've ever been on the receiving end of. Nil points.

Feminine wiles? Not all of them are so blessed, it seems.
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 10:03, Reply)

Not quite but almost..
2 am Christmas day and I've crawled into bed and went to snuggle with my ex. It was her grandmother. Wrong room. The conversations over christmas dinner were interesting.
(The_Greyhound wrote www.luckymcdanger.blog.co.uk on, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 10:01, Reply)

im not a twat
A few years ago i was standing in Kings Cross station trying to see which platrofm the next train home let from. It was a sunday and to be fair i looked like shit still hungover from the night before , slept on a mates couch , you know the score. This probably helped the image somewhat.

On no less than THREE occasions people asked if i was wait for it



Chris Evans !!!!!!!!


Just because i have red hair , glasses and needed a shave it dose not make me a twat.
Yes i did take offence especially as im funnier than that braying dickhead.
Once is bad enough but three times in one day really.....
(welgar, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 9:55, Reply)

Everyone mistakes me for my Dad.
Answering the phone gets pretty interesting.

"Hello"
"Hi, Mike, just wondering if you could pick something up for me"
"This is his son"
"Christ, you sound just like him".
(Maccy Divided by 0 on, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 8:43, Reply)

I often get mistaken as.......
someone who gives a shit.

I've actually got the word "Bothered" tatooed on my arse - my ring cunningly representing the 'o'.
Unfortunatley, by the time i get my pants down to reply to someone's comment, the moment's already passed - in comedy, timing is everything.
( dogfish, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 6:45, Reply)

Racist ?
My step dad has this awesome license plate... (stay with me on this) basically it is the 7 digits that you get (is it 7? w/e) but yeah ... the last 3 letters are the initials of his 3 kids... KKK

ahh it's always quite scary when some big bald black man stops at a traffic light and threatens to beat you into last week because of three stupid letters...

i mean cmon.. what did the KKK ever do to them ?
(My name was taken by me Is Sleeping With Your Sister/ Daughter/ Mother On, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 2:56, Reply)

A girl
About daily, from about 16-19. I now maintain a pair of borderline-farmer sideburns, because the abuse they draw is less than the embarrassment of correcting people about my penility. The worst time was being propositioned by a guy who looked like Freddie Mercury with AIDS. He wouldn't believe my or his mate's insistence that I was not in possession of a vagina.

Groups of my friends have also unanimously agreed that I am the spitting image of Tim Robbins, Christopher Lambert or Steven Seagal at various times in my life.
( TK-421 wasn't at his post on, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 1:22, Reply)

One of these is an aging rock star...
...and the other is me three years ago, just as I started uni. Can you guess which is which?



Don't worry, my hair is far less awesome now.
(Chyld wants your babies... in a sandwich, with mayo, Wed 6 Jun 2007, 0:26, Reply)

Dutch
The wife & I was flying back from LA to Heathrow, 2 days after the bomb scare thing last year. We were the only flight going and people were offering us £1500 for our tickets. We eventually confirmed that our seats were still ours, and we flew the next day.

The only clean clothes I had were a pair of jeans and a Netherlands footy shirt. I wear this for the flight home.

Queue me going up to check in, surronded by other English people still trying to get tickets. I over hear one of them say "He'll never f*cking sell. That's Arjen Robben, he needs to get back for Chelsea pre-season training.."

I'm still telling people about that! I look bugger all like him...
(gjb006, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 23:13, Reply)

Long John Saliva
was the spitting image of his father
(lordy lordy, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 23:12, Reply)

Jimmy Carr
I resemble a spit of this fella - but those who spot it take ages to say ....
(Mr Johnny Cash eating kittens since, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 22:09, Reply)

Not me but...
Years ago back when Hanson were popular me and my ex hubby (we were about 15 then though) were at Chesington and a group of gilrs were following us about, we could hear them

it is him
i wonder where his brothers are
they must be here
shall we get his autograph
look at that girl hes with, she nothing special
she looks so smug
lets get 'em!

cue me and luke running for it, later found out they thought he was Issac Hanson...you know, the ugly one...
( diffy maybs, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 21:57, Reply)

Stitch
From lilo n stitch also a few years ago i apperntly looked like a gerbil (don't no which exact gerbil but ya no...) n that was my nickname for a year or two. However that was dropped and i became known as sick rapist bastard ... but thats a different story....
( Mr Nerdy-Speccy-FuckNuts Ouchy ouchy wa wa!, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 21:55, Reply)

A prince!
i have the misfortune (or fourtune) of looking like prince harry, thing is people mistake my blonde hair of ginger, the colourblind bastards
( Dances with Rabbits Back to Education i go, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 21:20, Reply)

Yeah . . . right
Most days, in the course of gainful employment, I get mistaken for someone who gives a shit
(maggotriddendirtbox fast, feral and sharp as a tack since, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 20:15, Reply)

So..
One night i settled in for a romantic night in bed with my disabled auntie.

There was a faint snoring which indicated that it was mine. All Mine!!!

So half an hour later she grunts and says "Oi, what the fook're yoo dooin', eh??"

I was compelled with sudden shock...That's not her usual moan of retardness..

It was my crippled uncle Tobias...


I was so ashamed..
(Snailfighter Mk VIII MASTER of the bits underneath the ledges on fences, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 19:55, Reply)

My son
is my height, and looks a lot like a blonder, skinnier, spottier version of me without a goatee.

Last night he was out walking during a rather violent thunderstorm, and lightning struck close enough to him that it knocked him down.

Apparently God mistook him for me. Good thing God has lousy aim.

(All of the above is the literal truth, I might add...)
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 5 Jun 2007, 19:28, Reply)

tesco staff
down the local Tesco Metro in my vibrant blue Ben Sherman checked shirt. Walked past some tent-wearing big lady, pssssst to my mate Marc and pulled a face in direction of said large lady, who turns and says, "Excuse me". My bowels loosen. Marc scarpers round the corner pissing himself. Woman goes, "Do you work here?" I told her I didn't and walked on, my bowels breathing a huge sigh of relief.
(evilpenguin Ur polar bears r wel gay, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 18:53, Reply)

Come here. I want to talk to you.
Here, didn't you kill my brother?



Didn't ya kill, didn't ya kill, didn't ya kill my brother?

Didn't ya kill, didn't ya kill, didn't ya kill my brother?
(waxdart hello., Tue 5 Jun 2007, 17:40, Reply)

Mistaken for Ikea staff
Went shopping for a desk and a chair in Ikea.

During the course of which, I found a desk I liked, measured it to make sure it would fit in the space I had in mind for it, found a chair I liked, carried it over to the desk and made sure it fitted underneath and didn't bang on the legs or anything like that, then put it back.

Twice I was asked questions relating to Ikea and where to purchase items. When I explained to the second one that I wasn't a member of staff, I asked, out of curiosity, why he'd thought I was.

"Oh... you just looked like you knew what you were doing".
( le brian, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 17:39, Reply)

The sad march of time
When I was (much) younger t'was reckoned I was a low-rent David Sylvian , but now alas and alack it seems it's a low-rent Timothy Spall.
I think I may have inherited this from my Dad who before my very eyes transmuted from a young Roger Moore into an old Roy Kinnear.

Years, don'cha just love 'em?
( porky, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 17:11, Reply)

free underage drinks
On a night out I was chatting to a friend of a friend who'd been to the other high school in the same town as me. Talk turned to celebrating exam results (this was around a year after I'd left 6th form), and she told me a story about GCSE results night, when a pub landlord had given her free drinks all night because she'd done so well; in fact he had seen her picture in the local rag that day. Obviously this girl wasn't going to turn down free drinks, particularly not at the age of 16, although she was pretty sure there'd been a mix-up. Fast forward three years and it suddenly dawns on me that I was in fact the geek in the paper that particular year... those were my free drinks!

Dunno what he was thinking, she's ginger and I'm not...
(littlemsbroccoli, Tue 5 Jun 2007, 16:57, Reply)