Steve Jones
Foremost genetics expert in the UK, not really a hero, I read a couple of books of his in 6th form, and found out he was the main lecturer for my first year genetics courses.
The man was (in the parlance of our times) an arrogant twunt, no doubt as a result of too many nubile young female biology students asking his autograph, writing the same book 5 times and getting praise every time, and being asked to talk on telly everytime something vaguely scientific happened.
Credit where it is due, the lectures were amazing, but talking to the man himself it quickly became apparent he was completely in love with himself. He also didn't have time to bother marking any coursework, and decided to let all the students mark each others, at random. Of course the grades were all split between firsts given by generous, socialist types, and fails given by the selfish students. This is also totally against university rules, but he obviously felt they didn't apply to him.

I got screwed, can you tell?
(wago, Fri 26 May 2006, 23:30, Reply)

Trucking delightful
I was at a truck show a while back, and Sally Traffic came over to our stand. Game bird, she agreed to pose for our group shot and she put my arm round her. So I squeezed, gently but firmly, as a gentleman does...

The shutter clicked to the immortal cry of "You're squashing my boobs!"

Serious envy from all my HGV driving mates for years.
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Fri 26 May 2006, 23:18, Reply)

Terry Pratchett
Is a floppy-hatted twat with a social skills as flat as his literary world, the beardy prick.

So listen to me now, you anal author - JUST ONE SIGNATURE; I WAS 12, FOR FUCKS SAKE.

Fuck-knuckle.
( Grouch would quite like his clients to stop being numptys, Fri 26 May 2006, 23:17, Reply)

Jenny Bond
BBC Royal correspondant went to our Uni and got an honorary degree. We managed to persuade her to the Union. She got smashed, danced sluttily with us all, and then asked other honorary graduate Gus O'Donnell if she had slept with him when she was a student.
(hottwist, Fri 26 May 2006, 22:41, Reply)

I got chatting to Hank Wangford after a gig
He didn't even look at me.

Calls himself a gynaecologist? Pah!

PS, Quack - The Men They Couldn't Hang were supoib, takes me right back to Hammersmith...
(Ronnie Spleen MMMMNEURRGH I AM A GAY SPAZ AND I LOVE IT UP MY BU, Fri 26 May 2006, 21:43, Reply)

Cult TV folks
I don't have really nasty stories to tell, lots of skiffy actors I've met at cons have been nice and polite (I must've met them on their good days). Peter Davison was a bit of a boring grumpy bugger (confirmed over the years by others), but there's good grumpy and bad grumpy. Good grumpy was Gareth Thomas (the Blake's 7 bloke) ranting for a whole evening about how shite reality tv was. I agreed, of course, but even if I hadn't, well... you don't want to get on the wrong side of a big old Welsh bloke who'd had so much wine the bar ran out that night.

Paul Darrow, on the other hand, is disturbingly sleazy and full of himself. I got him to sign my boyfriend's B7 annual but he was far too busy ogling down my shirt and even drawling "it's not her hair I'm looking at" to his wife(!) who was busy fondling my ginger tresses. PD's a gent but a lecherous self-obsessed one at that.

Biggest wanker cred has to go to Anthony Stewart Head, though.

My mate used to work for a tv/movie production company thingummy at their reception. Being Finnish and not into Buffy or Little Britain, she got thoroughly put in her place by Ant Head who had a right "DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM" fit at her. He was either drunk or high or just badly hungover and sat on some "atmospheric" candles, burning his leather jacket and then loudly claiming he was going to sue the company for the price of the jacket. Dunno if he ever did, but what a twunt.
(Auntie Dalek molester extraordinaire, Fri 26 May 2006, 21:43, Reply)

Attila the Stockbroker
At a Men They Couldn't Hang gig almost 20 years ago. Arrived just in time to catch half of the support act which I enjoyed very much. Solo bloke, punk poet.

Saw support guy in the audience during the gig, went up & said something like "you were really good, who are you?" and was treated to a scowl rapidly followed by a view of his back.

Was surprised to discover a year later that THAT was Attila the Stockbroker who up until then I'd heard of but never heard.

Still, I've seen him & chatted to him several times since. Decent chap. Never mentioned our first meeting though!
(quack, Fri 26 May 2006, 21:20, Reply)

Ginger Spice

Ginger Spice hey. Geri Halliwell aka Ginger Spice.

I don't have a story about meeting her, I just like saying Ginger Spice.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 26 May 2006, 21:16, Reply)

Amanda Stepto aka Spike from Degrassi
Completely mad. Met her at a nightclub in Toronto, did the oh my God are you really Amanda Stepto etc. I asked her to do the thing from the show - she said she wasn't sure what I meant but OK, but then as soon as I pulled my pants down she went mental and had the bouncers throw me out!
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 26 May 2006, 21:15, Reply)

DIIIIIVE!!
I once (about a year or so ago) made myself look like a complete twunt in front of.... Brian (bloody) Blessed.
There I was ambling down the street minding my own business when I spotted what I thought was a tramp walking the opposite way. A big tramp with a badly knitted cardie and about 5 tescos bags. I thought to myself 'That trampy old guy looks like the legend that is Brian Blessed'. So I cunningly (and quickly) hatched a plan to see if I could get my photo taken and fool all my mates into thinking I had met Mr. Blessed.

Right. My opening line: "You look JUST like Brian Blessed".
To which I received the booming reply: " I AM Brian Blessed".
"Well done" was all I could come up with and walked away deeply shocked. I tried to hide my embarrasment by ducking into a convieniently placed newsagents only to be met with the local papers HUGE headline 'Brian Blessed plays local theatre'. I never got the chance to find out if he was a let-down or not, I kind of did that bit for him!
Buggerit.
( mxw8 Needs to learn about Time Management.... later on, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:56, Reply)

biggest disappointment of my life

Gordon Gano. Not only was he a man, he completely failed to punch me in the face.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:55, Reply)

brian blessed
bastard wouldn't say "gordon's alive?"

eventually told me to go away. didn't even get an autograph.

also met john barnes in a pub toilet in all places. wouldn't shake my hand despite insisting i'd just washed them.
(wayneofthedead Dale Winton was my dad, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:50, Reply)

I met Tom Jones

But I'm sure lots of people on here have. It's not unusual.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:46, Reply)

I met Sid James

Unfortunately it was after his death.

So he was carrion.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:41, Reply)

Saw Lady/Princess Diana at a party.

She was completely smashed.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:31, Reply)

Robbie Williams
Completely true, I promise.

Just over a month ago i was in Dubai visiting my sister whom is a journalist for a magazine that publishes events going on in dubai on a weekly basis (London has one and new york if you catch my drift). Whilst there Robbie himself would be performing and the whole city was going mental over the fact that the "pop god" himself was gracing them with his prescence.

However, one week before this magazine ran a story about him. As he hates jounalists, he refused to be interviewed. So the guy (James) doing the piece wrote his summary of Robbie. To be fair the guy was neither nasty or very praising of Robbie. It was a long piece and in it he mentions Robbie has sold 35million records worldwide and His most famous song is Angels. All pretty normal.

However the day comes when Robbie arrives at his hotel (can't remember the name), with his entourage of around 30 people and James and his editor are there. They greet him with a friendly handshake and he mutters something to his entourage and the guy starts laughing at the two Journalists. Robbie then walks off.

So James walks over to the bar they were at to pay their bill. However Robbie comes back and says to James' boss, "give this to James for me", giving him a piece of paper.

On it it says,

"James you are a cunt, I have sold 42million albums worldwide, as for good songs Rock DJ and Millenium to name but 2 more!"

Apparently he reads all articles about himself and takes them very seriously!!

They wanted to run an article with the piece of paper in it, but apparently it was a bit risky.

Then my sister and girlfriend went to see him perform and have declared their undying love to the complete twat!!!
(Bernie, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:28, Reply)

I won a radio competition
And I was given the option of meeting Bonnie Tyler.

I didn't take it up, as I was holding out for a hero.

In the end I met Tina Turner, thus rendering further heroes superfluous to my requirements.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:24, Reply)

my connection to a man dressed like Jim Morrisson
In Australia there's a big thing of 'tribute bands' - bands that do covers exclusively of one band or singer, and also dress like them. Usually it's bands that are foreign and either defunct (eg the Doors, Abba) or way too big to come to Australia more than once in a blue moon (eg U2, the Cure).

Anyway, for some reason at work we were talking about bands and I wondered aloud whether 'groupies' were real or just something that people in bands wish would happen, and she said that her ex used to be the singer of the Australian Doors Show, and indeed did get groupies.

I like to think that they'd pretend to be famous groupies from the 60s, but I guess probably not.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:22, Reply)

not too many..
Har Mar Superstar - nice bloke, dead short

Steve Lamacq - ditto

Editors - quiet blokes

El Presidente (rubbish scottish band) - all twunts, particularly the singer and his sour-faced keyboard playing mrs. Their drummer is intensely hot though, didnt get chance to speak to her.

Trevor Nelson - sent one of his fat cronies to drag blondes out of the cloakroom queue for 'drinks' *shudder*
(FiftyFour, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:13, Reply)

When I were a lass
Terry Duckworth (aka Nigel Pivaro) was the hottest thing to tread the cobbles of Coronation Street. Imagine my horror when I saw Mr. Pivaro looking a) fat and b) off his tits at a party in Manchester, round about 1994. He was chewing his gum and doing that thing where you stretch it out of your mouth as long as you can before stuffing it back in. Ee, it were gruesome...
(sundaeg1rl Lady Two-Jugs, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:11, Reply)

I didn't even have to meet them
My friends claim that Shane MacGowan went to a posh school in North London, and that Morrissey was athletic at school.

I'm not sure whether either story is true but my immediate reaction to the Pogues one was "right, fuck that, I'm never listening to them again". Then I realised that that's not so much of a punishment given that I download all my music.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 26 May 2006, 20:10, Reply)

And there IS Murray Walker
Met Murray Walker at a hotel in Donington. Told him how he was solely responsible for getting me hooked on Formula One because he made it sound so exciting even when it was boring. He admonished me with "Formula One is never boring - sometimes processional, but never boring."

Gutted - I tried to pay him a huge compliment and he told me off!


Some months later, Murray Walker launches his autobiography, stating "I tried to make Formula One sound exciting, even when it was boring."

Bastard!!!!!!!
( Beve The Spaniard broke off his horse's head, Fri 26 May 2006, 19:36, Reply)

I was Avis von Herder's cycle-saviour...
...outside Turkish centre in Camden. Wicked dancer but couldn't ride a bike for toffee. Saved her from a traffic crushing so she was all of teh grateful, invited me to attend that night's performance...fnargh.

Failed miserably to redirect the evening's pub crawl toward some culture, turned up pissed and late with me mates (both types), said "hiya" to the "glowing" dancer then disappeared off to continue getting outers to the consternation of the assembled Turks.

So the "celeb" was disappointed by her "hero".

Bit of a twist.

Sweaty fit dancer woman nnnrgh....*splaffs*
(Ronnie Spleen MMMMNEURRGH I AM A GAY SPAZ AND I LOVE IT UP MY BU, Fri 26 May 2006, 19:09, Reply)

Well they're all disappointing really.
I worked for Our Price for a long time and you meet a load of so called stars over the counter.

Starting with the ubiquitous Wayne Hussey: he was morose, but got chatty about Bjork. Promised to come and see my band but never showed up.

Then of course there was the day 'Queenie' out of Blackadder 2 came into the store. She turned up at closing time and kept us open for thirty minutes whilst she looked at her own videos and didn't buy anything. Meanwhile her kids (3 or 4 year olds) are running round and screaming, one eventually headbutting a tall sales assistant impressively in the nuts. The cow didn't even apologise!

Diana the dead adulterous fake royal came into my shop in Kensington with one of her child spongers. I blanked her, I'm no royalist! I let the big gay Australian sales assistant deal with her cause he was starstruck like a big gay bi-atch.

I once met Robert Plant, who bought me a pint and was very down to earth, whatever that means. I liked him and didn't mention stairway to heaven out of politeness sake.

Ending on a sad one, back at Kensington a few days after Michael Hutchence died we had a visit from Paula Yates. She spotted a rather unfavourable 'auto-erotic-hanging-suicide story' in one of the music rags and went totally apeshit. The swearing and shrieking was beyond professional in it's inventivenss and length. I felt very sad for her and so very full of love I wanted to take her away somewhere and look after her.

But then I thought about Bob Geldof...

Oh well, apologies for the absurd length, but this is just a few of the stories. Remind me to tell you about Alyson (Willow outta Buffy) Hannigan, some time. She was nice, and even swopped spit with me. (I'm still dining out on that one.)
(Mr Steve is jobless and fancyfree!, Fri 26 May 2006, 19:03, Reply)

more jazz in the left monitor please...
Being one of the managers at a music venue lets me meet quite a few people I've always dreamed of meeting...

(Funnily I met Wayne Hussey. He didn't say much... Would he have been a good guest for radio?)

Anyway, Danny from the Wildhearts... He was really lovely at the start of the night, introducing himself (like he needed to!) and then having a nice little chat to me about beating smack and everything...

Towards the end of the night he started laying into me about his bottle of Jack Daniels and the rest of the rider not being present... This being because we'd not been sent one... He got very aggro, went upto the green room for about 10 minutes and came down floaty as fuck... and ever so smiley... Toooo smiley...

When he played he actually had to use the PA to lean against to keep him upright... The rest of the band (Dogs d'Amour) seemed ok... Well... Until they got their door takings... Moody... Very moody... Yes... Right.
(blackfacedfightinggibbon, Fri 26 May 2006, 18:34, Reply)

Not me but a friend.
Its still me who ends up being heartily disappointed.

Knows Terry Pratchett through a family member working with him. Has met him and apparently he is paranoid and obnoxious. Family member said that he has installed a recorder in the garden so that when a visitor leaves, he can hear what they are saying about him.

I just thought he was a funny old bugger.
(ladyintheradiator, Fri 26 May 2006, 18:10, Reply)

Mr.Oaf
..you are indeed Splendid.

Stu Francis on the other hand is doing panto if he's lucky and is certainly still a 'fucking cunt'.
(Fonkadelix is fucking bored, pass the crack pipe Mavis., Fri 26 May 2006, 17:28, Reply)

Miles Hunt - rhyming slang
A mate of mine bumped into the singer a couple of years ago in Camden. Now as he used to be a massive Stuffies fan, he thought he'd go up and say hello.

"Miles", he shouted out.

Mr Hunt looked at him and said "You love me, but I hate you, you cunt" and stormed off

Oooh what a charmer
(fried gold, Fri 26 May 2006, 17:24, Reply)

Fonkadelix
Shiiiit. My apologies mate...
(The Splendid Oaf, Fri 26 May 2006, 17:23, Reply)

not all actors are up their own arses
Many years ago (1988 to be precise), I was doing work experience at ZTT. I got to meet the likes of Paul Morley (total and utter tool, want to slap the TV every time his ugly mug is on it), Trevor Horn (pussywhipped by his scary as fuck wife)and some other even less memorable people.

One day I answered the phone to a man, explained politely that whoever he wanted to speak to wasn't there.

Instead of just leaving a message, he gave me a half hour pep talk about careers in the media, and was a thoroughly lovely man.

I want to hug him every time I see him on TV, even when he is playing scary people.

Roy Marsden aka Inspector Adam Dalgleish, you are a true gentleman, I salute you :)
(numnum, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:59, Reply)