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This is a question Never Meet Your Heroes

They're bound to disappoint - like the time we booked Wayne Hussey for the B3ta Radio Show. Five minutes before we're due to record, Wayne
phones, lost on the M25 with his Brazilian wife screaming in the background. Not so much the King of Goth, as a hen-pecked flake.

(, Thu 25 May 2006, 14:17)
Pages: Latest, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, ... 1

This question is now closed.

Tom Baker - HMV Oxford Street - Signing City of Death DVD

The "Tom's putting it in" legend is scary enough. Meeting the man proved even scarier for the girl in front of me...

... he immediately placed his incredibly large hand on hers and held her in place.

Tom Baker: Hello my dear.

Girl: Hello.

Tom Baker: And who should I sign this for?

Girl: Simon.

Tom Baker: Ah... yes... and how are you, Simon?

Girl: I'm not Simon.

Tom Baker: (Annoyed) You're not Simon?

Girl: No.

Tom Baker: (Angry) Where the hell is Simon?

Girl: (Terrified) He's at work. He couldn't get time off.

Tom Baker: My dear, I'd never have signed the fucking thing if I'd known you weren't Simon.

A long silence ensues... and then he beams that insane smile of his.

Tom Baker: I'm only joking, my dear!

He lets go of her hand, she grabs the DVD and legs it out of the store as fast as possible.

Now it's my turn. Get an autograph. Tom Baker is laughing his arse off at his own prank.

Tom Baker: Oh I do hope he loves her for this.

Tom Baker, The Man, The Myth... The Madman
(, Fri 26 May 2006, 11:11, Reply)
Oh dear
My hero was Jill Dando.

It didn't go very well.
(, Thu 25 May 2006, 18:28, Reply)
Lovely Bloke meets Lovely Bloke
This is a fairly long story, but bear with me, it’s good.

Rightyo, a friend of mine Dave has lived on his boat on the Thames for years. Never, really had a permanent job he does odd jobs for people how live in the large houses along the banks of the river.

One day Dave is happily pootiling along when the clouds open, the wind picks up and almighty summer storm ensues. Dave decides it would be best to moor up asap and get in doors. He heads to the bank and moors up along side a palatial house where he sees a guy in the garden packing up and heading inside. Dave shouts across to ask if it would be ok to moor up for the length of the storm and the guy says it not a problem, he can stay as long as he needs to.

Dave being Dave takes this invitation quite literally and moors up for the night. Next day the guy from the house knocks on Dave’s door. Rather than being horrible, the guy invites Dave for breakfast and says that he can use the cottage in the garden for a bath or whatever. Dave jumps at the chance of hot bath and then joins the guy for breakfast.

At breakfast Dave gets properly introduced to Jimmy the owner of the house and Jimmy’s Mother who is staying over for the week. They are soon getting on like a house on fire, Dave being one of those guys who can charm the birds from the trees. Anyhows, Jimmy tells Dave that he really likes his company and that if he has nothing else to do he could stay at the bottom of the garden and do some odd jobs for him.

After a week with Jimmy, Dave was ready to move on and to thank Jimmy for his hospitality he invites him and his Mother for a trip on the Thames, followed by lunch and a pint in riverside pub. At the Pub, Dave could sense that something was not quite right. People kept staring at them and whispering. Just before they were leaving someone comes up to Jimmy and asks him for his autograph, telling him the he is their hero. Dave was obviously thinking “who the hell are you” but said nothing.

Back at the house Dave’s curiosity gets the better of him and he asks the question: “Jimmy, I have to ask but who the hell are you? And why are you that guy’s hero?”. Jimmy tells Dave that he is a guitar player in a band called Led Zeplin, i.e. he is Jimmy Paige. Dave’s face doesn’t move a muscle. If fact, his exact words were “Never herd of yer, are you any good?”.

This was about 5 years ago and since then Dave and Jimmy have become best buddies.

More hilarity ensues, there is a further story about when Jimmy and Dave won a competition on the back of packet of cornflakes, the prize was to have Atomic Kitten sing for you in your house. They did, turned up, realised they were at a proper musicians house and shat themselves.
(, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:44, Reply)
Voice of an angel.
I was once in the cardiff bay area with a girlfriend (we were actually going to the science museum technoquest, should anyone know it, to have an afternoon of magnet based fun) when my lady happened to point oh so casually at the flats behind us and say "charlotte church lives there."
"What?" Says I.
"Charlotte Church... she lives in that flat there."

I spent the next fifteen minutes shouting at the top of my voice "charlotte church! charlotte church." I didn't get bored. I did not waver. I stood and shouted it, always at the same volume, same octave... over and over again. "Charlotte Church... Charlotte Church." It was like a monotonous car alarm just sounding out the name charlotte church. It became my mantra. I don't even think i was fully aware that i was saying it anymore. It was just dripping out of my mouth, like a welsh named syrup, charlotte church... continually falling out of my mouth and sounding throughout the bay area. And my girlfriend with infinite patience, has just taken to sitting on the curb and playing with her phone. (she had an affair not to much later. I couldn't blame her.) Charlotte church. Charlotte church...

Well eventually a net curtain pulls back, and who should hang themselves out of the window but the welsh wonder herself, wearing nothing but a bathrobe, last nights make-up and a cigarette on her lips...

"What!!! What the fuck do you want?" She says, in her lyrical welsh voice.

And I didn't know. I didn't know what i wanted. Why was I shouting for her?

"Erm... nothing. I just wondered if you were in."
(, Fri 26 May 2006, 10:41, Reply)
I was tricked by PJ And Duncan.
When I was little I thought PJ And Duncan (now Ant and Dec) were great. I went to see them in panto-mon-mine at Lewisham, and was bought up on stage for the audience-participation part.

Me, and two MUCH OLDER children, were given musical instruments. I had a squeezey-horn thing. We had to "play" them in order to make a song.

Only my one would not, and I was terrified. 100s of people watching me and laughing :( This went on for AT LEAST AN HOUR.

Once the laughing had died down, DUNCAN took my horn musical instrument and squeezed it and low-and-behold it worked perfectly (infact: a man in the soundbox had pressed a button to make it sound like it had, it was a dummy one). They gave it back to me, still didn't work, they took it back, it worked, they gave it to me, AND I FUCKING CRIED AT THEM.

All I remember now is crying, a giant goodie bag, and a life-long loathing of Ant and fucking Dec.

(, Thu 25 May 2006, 16:25, Reply)
Nick Cave
In the early days of Xfm Radio I booked all the interviews and live sessions. During one of our trial broadcasts I'd arranged for Nick Cave to come in, and he turned up a bit worse for wear.

I took his PR girl aside and had a word - "look, we've got to be careful here, we're tying to get a broadcasting license and can't afford any cock-ups - is Nick going to behave himself?" She went away, spoke to the singer and came back, saying that he'd promised to be good.

So he goes on the air, and the DJ greets him by saying "So, Nick, thanks for coming in. How are you?"


It was years before I could listen to the Bad Seeds again.
(, Thu 25 May 2006, 14:53, Reply)
I was a little child, maybe 5, on a ferry to France.
"OMG", thought my tiny, sugar-addled mind, "ITZ TOM N JERRY!1!11!1". I was not wrong; there stood a giant Tom and giant Jerry: my two favourite cartoon characters, their crazy adventures bringing joy to me in ways that nothing else can.

"I WANNA HUG", I prepubescently growled, running up to the massive, brown mouse. A look of sheer glee stretched across my ugly little face as I wrapped my snotty fingers into his coarse, sexual fur. "JERRY", I honked, "WHY HAVE YOU GOT SUCH HAIRY ARMS?".

"You silly little cunt", he replied, "I am a mouse. Of course I have hairy arms."

"FINE, BUT WHY ARE YOU WEARING A WATCH?", I foghorned, stepping back.

"Because I'm a fucking 38 year old man who's only doing this job so I can pay for coke and whores after the holiday. I fucking hate kids. I fucking hate you. You are a disgusting, snotty little brat, and I would become a paedophile just to get my revenge on nasty little shits like you, but unfortunately I'm too repulsed to even consider rodgering you. Now get out of my sight before I stab you to death and dump your carcass in the sea."

So I went and hugged Tom instead. He was my favourite anyway.
(, Thu 25 May 2006, 21:42, Reply)
Stephen Hawking - mind size of a planet, complete twunt tho, wouldnt sign my book.
(, Sat 27 May 2006, 10:06, Reply)
i slept with the girl from hanson
very dissapointing
(, Tue 30 May 2006, 12:35, Reply)
I met John Lennon once
I didn't think much of him though.
(, Tue 30 May 2006, 10:25, Reply)
Peter Beardsley
My friend spotted the taxi driver with the "Mr Beardsley" sign at King's Cross. Despite being unfathomably drunk, I managed to prop myself against said taxi driver until Beardsley arrived. The crooked-faced chimp-genius had his family in tow, all of whom I kissed. I managed to persuade him to sign the match programme "If I was a gayer, you're first in the queue, love Peter Beardsley". Unforgetable. If anyone cares that much, I'll scan and post the programme...
(, Thu 25 May 2006, 18:16, Reply)
Lenny Henry
When I was a young boy I saw Lenny Henry in Forbidden Planet comic shop in London. I went up to him, not even to bother him for an autograph, just to say "alright Lenny?"

And he told me to fuck off. I was about 9 years old.

I hope to meet him again one day. They'll be no "alright Lenny?", more "how come you're still not funny after 30 years you pig shagging, has-been cunt? Step on up if you fancy some. I'll kick your fucking face off."

(, Thu 25 May 2006, 15:26, Reply)
The Other Two
This happened to a friend of a friend, but it IS a true story.

He was out with a mate in Manchester 15 years or so ago, and they were in a pub, when he noticed that his mate kept staring at three people sitting at a table opposite. One of the blokes went of to the gents, at which point his mate went over and spoke to the other two, coming back grinning.

"What was all that about?" my mate asked.

"Well, I've been looking at them for ages, because I thought I recognised the bloke who went off to the gents. So I went over and asked them if they were with the lead singer of New Order. And, yes, it is!".

"Great," says my mate, "You know how New Order is Bernard Sumner and Peter Hook, plus the other two? Well, the two people you've just spoken to - that's the other two".
(, Thu 25 May 2006, 16:43, Reply)
Don't look at the hard drive
My mate Jon is a copper and met his boyhood hero when he had to arrest Gary Glitter after the now-infamous PC World incident.

He doesn't want to be in Gary's gang any more.
(, Sat 27 May 2006, 17:31, Reply)
never let your heroes meet my brother
At glasto a few years ago, my brother sneaked into the VIP bar with his mate and blagged a couple of drinks. Noticing some other guys sitting around, he shouts in his drunkenest voice at one of them: "Fuck me, its garth out of waynes world!".

It wasnt, it was tom rowlands out of the chemical brothers.
(, Thu 25 May 2006, 14:30, Reply)
Worzel Fucking Gummidge
When I was seven I went to see the Worzel Gummidge stage production at the Nottingham Playhouse. Having thoroughly loved it, I plucked up enough courage to wait by the stage door so I could get Worzel's autograph.

Jon Pertwee came storming out like some grumpy scarecrow cunt, barged past us kids whilst muttering "move away, don't crowd round" and went straight to his car, leaving wailing and disappointed children in his wake.

Thankfully Una Stubbs came out a couple of minutes later. What a lovely woman - not only did she sign my programme and told me that I must have very cold hands having waited outside for so long, but when she leaned forward to talk to me I copped an eyeful of a fabulous pair of unfettered norks.

So I'd like to proffer a big fat 'fuck you' to Pertwee who had been my Dr Who hero until then. Yes I know he's dead and won't listen, but its cathartic to get this out in the open after so many years.

I'd also like to proffer a big fat 'woo' to Stubbs, who helped get me into wanking at a very early age.
(, Sat 27 May 2006, 16:13, Reply)
I've met Kenneth Branagh
Well, technically I haven't met him as such. But I have had a painful cyst on my anus, which is probably the same basic experience.
(, Sat 27 May 2006, 2:41, Reply)
take it like you love it!
a friend, John M he worked for the BBC in Cardiff nothing important just a production assistant. one Thursday "Question Time", politics Q & A show for those who don't know, was being done in St. Davids Hall Cardiff, the ever so high and mighty and self righteous presenter, no name but his brother is Jonathon Dimbleby, has a hissy fit because the T.V. supplied in his dressing room is too small and john is tasked to sort it out which he duely does. unfortunately the new telly wouldn't fit on the existing stand so had to go on the dressing table so he puts it on there but knocked over Mr. Ds' briefcase and what falls out? Hardcore BDSM porn & contact mags, not just one or two but shit loads so next time you wacth his smug face just think "bring out the Gimp" and try not to smile.
(, Thu 25 May 2006, 16:15, Reply)
To baldy go where no man has gone before
I once had a piss in Paddington Station next to Patrick Stewart. When i was little i wanted to grow up and be the captain of the USS Enterprise.

Unfortunately after seeing the legendary Captain Picard i was put off the idea. He was a lot shorter than he looked on telly and i could hardly see where i was pissing due to the light reflecting off his baldy head.

Still i managed to shout "live long and Prosper!" as i was running out of the toilet at warp speed to inform my mates of my celebrity encounter. I thought it would be funny but then realised that saying was from a completely different series and in no way did he look anything like Spock. I think i should just stay clear of celebs, they just seem to fluster me.
(, Thu 25 May 2006, 15:23, Reply)
David Bellamy
Thinks I control birds minds by radio signals.
I work for a company that makes silent alarm networks for caravan parks, and it's my job to ring up these parks and see if everything is working fine.
So earlier this year I made my usual call to a park in Wales, the salesman on the other end said everything was fine but they had David Bellamy down there kicking up a fuss because of me. "THE David Bellamy? What watches birds and that? What have I done to him?" I asked "Hold on, I'll put him on" said the salesman. So he did.

"Hello, David Bellamy here. Yes I want you to come here and meet me so we can discuss the distress your alarms are causing the birds in Wales."

"But they're silent alarms."

"Yes I know that, it's the radio frequency y'see? It's affecting their heads and distressing them. I want you to meet me when I'm here again on monday next week."

So slightly starstruck, I agreed and arranged a time and date to meet him. I came back down to earth though when I told the story to my boss and he reminded me that I am a lowly office worker and that what I just told him made no sense. So I took the advice of this week's QOTW and never met him.
I can imagine old Bellers now, sitting in a caravan in a muddy field somewhere in Wales waiting for me, not knowing I would never arrive. Wearing a tin-foil hat to protect him from the deadly radio waves from the alarms and conversing with the sparrows and seagulls. But not the blackbirds, he's a bit like that you know.
(, Tue 30 May 2006, 14:40, Reply)
Condoleeza Rice
Met Condi at a ball at Stanford when I was studying for my PhD (she was Provost (similar to Vice-Chancellor) there at the time).

I'm glad she's US Secretary of State mainly because she's one scary woman.

Charming intelligent eloquent quite attractive (in a strange way) and at the same time...scary.

PS : Please vote for me. I'm not a Republican (hell, I'm not even an American) but please vote it'd be nice to make it into the "Best of..."
(, Thu 25 May 2006, 15:17, Reply)
Women's Wrongs
Me and some friends were standing chatting in Cambridge's University Library (a huge, redbrick cock of a building) when a grey-haired woman came rushing past us, and down the stairs to the exit. This uncommonly brisk and impolite passer-by was accompanied, roughly five seconds later, by a putrefying smell best described as the 'bowels of hell'. It was only at that point that we all put the face to a name.

Germaine Greer had guffed in our corridor. It was terrible.
(, Wed 31 May 2006, 23:41, Reply)
Snorting Yellow Pages Bloke
My mate told me yesterday about when he was in the bogs at some London bar and could hear someone sniffing away in one of the cubicles. Moments later out walks James Nesbitt. He goes to the sinks, where my mate was washing his hands. He looks over, possibly hoping for some kind of reponse. My mate, cynical bastard, pretends not to know who he is and simply nods an alright. Nesbitt proceeds to turn on the tap and sprays his groin with water. He laughs and turns round to my mate and says:

'Can you believe that I, James Nesbitt, has just made it look like I've pissed myself?!'

My mate looks at him, smiles and says:

'Yeah, nice one mate.'

Then walks out.
(, Sat 27 May 2006, 14:49, Reply)
Rhymes with raining
Back in September 1989 I was travelling around the US and ended up in LA, where I interviewed a few comic artists and cartoonists for UK magazines such as Speakeasy, if anyone remembers that.

One of them produced a newspaper strip called Life in Hell, and had got a job doing "the first animated sitcom on American TV since the Flintstones", as he described it. He was clearly a bit overwhelmed by the whole experience of working in TV, having a secretary and all the rest of that, and was very normal and down-to-earth as a result.

The interview was only supposed to be a half-hour but he stretched it to over an hour, and the only thing we didn't talk about was the TV series. He'd just had the first episode back from the animators in Korea, and apparently it was awful -- crude, cheap, they'd put in unscripted fart gags and stuff, and the studio had sent it back to be redone, from scratch, six weeks before the series was supposed to go on air. So this lovely bloke was staring at the fact his TV career was about to explode in his face, and didn't want to talk about it. So we talked about other comics and cartoonists, books, rock music (he used to be a rock journalist), and anything that wasn't the TV series, basically. And he was brilliant, funny, entertaining company, one of the nicest interviews I've ever done.

I was the first British journalist to interview Matt Groening, and we didn't talk about the Simpsons. I've never been able to sell the article. I still have the tape. I can't bear to play it.
(, Fri 26 May 2006, 0:45, Reply)
Don't care
When i was about 5 i was mad on the Care Bears.
One half term we went to Brighton and i was strolling down the seafront when out of nowhere, i saw the Carebears cloud car come hurtling towards me. I screamed and run away back to my mum. The driver of the cloudcar (who was dressed as Lucky bear; my favourite) jumped out and said somthing along the lines of 'I can't see fuck all with this head on' and took the carebear head off. Me and my sister started crying because we thought the guy had killed lucky bear.
We got free tickets to the Care Bears LIVE! at the Brighton Centre for all the upset so it wasn't all bad.
(, Thu 1 Jun 2006, 9:00, Reply)
Joe Cornish
Someone in a pub recently pointed out that Channel 4's Joe Cornish was sitting at the bar!!
I have to admit that I didn't know him from Adam.
(, Wed 31 May 2006, 11:33, Reply)
Dave Grohl in 'not nicest man in rock' shocker
Everyone loves Grohl don't they? With his cheeky face and reputation as 'the nicest man in rock' etc etc

A mate of mine was with a couple of friends and went to see Nirvana in Glasgow. They were having some beers and playing some pool before the gig when 'Wee Davey' spotted the band playing pool a few tables away. Being a massive fan, he walked over, utterly star struck, to speak to them

He asked Dave Grohl if he could get an autograph. Grohl rolled his eyes, grabbed a bit of paper and quickly scribbled something down, then thrust it into Davey's hands and turned his back on him

The guy walked back to his mates, overwhelmed with excitement. "So what did he write, Davey?"

He opened the bit of paper, and Dave Grohl had written "The reason I'm in this band is so I don't end up being a loser like you. Dave Grohl"

Hmmm, must have been having an off day then
(, Tue 30 May 2006, 16:19, Reply)
stoner hero
i was, and to some extent still am, a big fan of Lee 'scratch' Perry and his dub reggae sound. i was extremely excited to find that he would be playing at the same one day music festival i was to be djing at (me in a shitty little tent with the equivalent of a home stereo for a system, him on the massive main stage).

I went along, did my little set and then sat infront of the main stage getting nicely toasted waiting for Perry and his band to arrive. two hours after they were ment to play it was anounced that they would not be showing up.

Dissapointed and a little worse for wear i started the journey back into town where i had to do another gig late that night.

After setting up in the club i went out on the the street to have a cigarette before starting and i came accross this little old man, very black with a grey beard. he was sitting in the gutter stuggling to get up and then sitting down again. he looked up at me and reached a hand out to me. i started to pull away from this filthy old tramp when i saw the cds attached to each high top trainer he was wearing

'fuck me it's lee perry'

and it was. he hadn't made it to the festival and now couldn't find his hotel. i took a guess (there's only really two hotels international reggae superstars might stay at in dublin) and carried him along to the hotel. the doorman whouldn't let him but eventually i persuaded the manager that this was the lee perry from the lee perry party that had booked out a floor of the hotel.

rather than thank me lee pulled out a joint from his pocket, took a toke, did a little sick on my leg and then wandered into the hotel.
(, Fri 26 May 2006, 10:58, Reply)
He's not MY bloody hero...
In the wintery months, A couple of mates and I go to Kallbadhuset in Malmö (cold bath hose) out in the sea. It consists of a few saunas, and some enclosed(ish) sea areas, and open sea that you can dive into. We only really bother to go in the winter: the water hits minus 3, and you need to smash the ice before plunging butt-naked into the water..

You can make as many jokes about blokes being naked together as you want... Only someone who is totally secure with themselves can strut around after having frozen thier nuts off.

I digress.

Sat chilling in the sun one warmish day, Per-Ola and I noticed a guy with an "I've worked out too much" body appear in green speedos. This is rather rare at Kallis, most people walk around naked, or with a towel. People stared.
He parked himself near the known "male-appreciation" boys, and proceded to do a wierd workout. Until I saw this guy produce one, i NEVER thougth that people had the "roller on a stick abs-workout machine". He produced one, and poceded to roll himself up and down infront of the hairy bear-boys. They looked appreciative.
He then danced around for a bit, and produced a latex rubber bandish thing, and proceded to do some more chest-puffing stuff.
Until that Day, I'd never seen someone make a simple workout into a show-off routine.

Sat out in the cold, Peo and I sat gigglnig at this self.absorbant display, and wondered if the guy was TRYING to turn on the cuddly gents behind him.

A few minutes leater, sat in the 95 degree sauna, we were discussing the ludicrous actions of the guy in question, when he walked in.

"fuck me" says Peo... It's Peter Siepen. He's famous.

He's a faily famous bloke here in Sweden, infamous for being annoyingly eccentric, full of self-love, wearing crocodile-skin boots, daft hats and feathery earings etc... Try this Google Search to get an idea

There is a band of 3 tiered benches in the sauna, you sit looking out to sea through the triple-glazed windows. It's quite sublime and relaxed. In the event of no space, you can take the tiny single-seat that is infront of the window. This allows you to spot the next guy to leave, and take his place.

There was plenty of room on the benches... Yet Siepen chooses to sit opposite us all, on the single bench.

Now.. the next bit is a kinda male thing: if you can sneak a peek, you do. you HAVE to know how big the next dude's tackle is. Don't deny it.. evey time you're in a public shower, you end up having a subtle look at the other people there. Now.. sat in the sauna I guess most people so have a look. They DON'T however do what Mr S did... sitting infront of everyone looking from crotch to crotch. His face didn't flicker til his eyes met my with slanty-eyed mutton gun. I have 2 piercings, both clearly obvious in the sauna. He stared, and STARED. Peo even tapped me on the shoulder and said "Dude, Peter Siepen's staring at your winkie"

The seat next to me then became clear.


He came and sat next to me.

Though I thought it was impossible, he proceeded to stare more.

So... there's now a TV series called "Rocky & Drago" on in Sweden... A wierd kind of "Micheal Palin goes aroudn the world" thing, but with Peter Siepen and some vacuuous bimbo who screams alot.

I wonder if he talks about the day he saw a wierd dude with Steel in his dick as much as i talk about the day that Siepen stared at my Winkie...

Celebrities... some are nice, some are assholes, and some simply stare at your genitals too much.

Yes, I know it was long... but it *was* 95 degrees C...
(, Mon 29 May 2006, 15:23, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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