I was on TV once

It was a bit freaky actually.

I was walking along the high road, just doing a bit of window shopping when I got to Currys. I looked up at the TV in the window, and at that precise moment, there I was!! On TV!!!

What are the chances of that happening?
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 10:48, Reply)

Not quite 15 minutes but
1) Back in my younger days we had to do firework safety tests. Now 20 years ago, fireworks were shite. They still are in the main, but in those days they were REALLY shite, about the mildest form of entertainment imagineable.
So every October we set the car park up as described in the British Standard and carried out the relevant tests and it was as monotonous as a Brian Robson one-man show.

Except the one time we got some unsafe ones. Wahey, these fuckers were as unpredictable as a paranoid schizophrenic in a hall of mirrors, owt could happen.

Various press releases were issued and the local ITV news descended. This meant that safety clothing had to be donned. Lab coat, goggles & hard hat 'cos the telly were there, rather than carrying out the tests with a couple of inches of arse crack peeping out of your jeans (as was the norm).

As "chief lighter" (i.e. the trainee), I sensed my moment of fame & the future opportunity to try & take advantage of a young semi-drunk star-struck nubile "Eeeeee weren't you on the telly the other day?"

Sadly, due to a very unpredictable Roman Candle, all the viewing public of the North East got to witness of young Worthless was his arse disappearing into the distance at a rate of knots whilst the camera focused on the shoddily-crafted pyrotechnic device ejecting brightly-coloured flaming balls of death horizontally in a random fashion through a tear in the casing.

Suppose it was good telly like.

2) 45 seconds of fame on the national news of Trinidad in 1998 after England's victory in the 3rd test. Me & my mate gave a vox-pop that they played in full later that night. During my stint I managed to use the word "brilliant" more than Paul Whitehouse.
(Worthless wishes he had the brains of a pigeon, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 10:23, Reply)

How the West (Wing) was won
Cast your mind back to late 2007, it’s the Democratic Primaries. Hilary Clinton has a substantial lead in superdelegates and what seemed to be an insurmountable lead in the national polls over Barack Obama. Whilst I’d like to think it was my appearance on local telly in Chicago that swung it for Barack, unfortunately the footage never saw the light of day. Because I’m an inarticulate twat. Let me explain.

I was living in Hyde Park on the South Side of Chicago, a mere 3 blocks from where the Obama family had their Chicago residence. It was a Saturday morning and my friend Jess and I had completed our traditional weekend breakfast of chili, eggs and pancakes at the local diner and were heading back to my apartment for an afternoon of watching Dexter. As we skipped through the snow on 53rd street, we were stopped by a camera crew from a local TV channel who wanted to talk to people from the Hyde Park area about their local candidate and how they thought he would fair in the upcoming caucuses. Being from Bridgeport, Jess declined to comment, so they turned to me. I explained that as I was in fact British, I wouldn’t be voting; at this point I assumed the conversation was done and turned to leave. But no, they had other ideas. How great would it be to get a perspective from someone from another country on the primary race, indeed someone from a country with a much vaunted “special relationship” with the US. Without warning, the camera was on me and a fluffly microphone thrust in my face, “so, what do the British think of potentially the USA’s first black president then?”

I should at this point explain that in real life, under normal circumstances, I have an accent that could only belong to someone who has spent their formative years in the North West of England. Indeed, I pretty much sound like an extra from Coronation Street. However, under stress, and particularly when doing any kind of public speaking, years of elocution lessons at my first school (designed to bring out my inner Radio 4 presenter voice) kick in with wild abandon and I end up sounding like Margo from The Good Life. So my response to being put on the spot like this was to reply (and you’ll have to imagine Penelope Keith saying this) “Well, I must say, he seems like an awfully nice chap. Yes, jolly nice. I imagine he’ll do a terribly good job. I’ve seen him on the telly. He was marvelous. Simply charming.”

The camera crew are looking at me in horror. Jess is doubled over laughing. They thank me and I walk away in shame, with Jess repeating the words “Simply charming” at me. They never used the footage, thank Christ. And clearly Mr Obama managed to get elected without my help.

Obligatory “Length? 4 years, with an option to extend…” joke here.
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 10:23, 2 replies)

...
I was on a regional BBC news programme in the 70s called 'Our Town' and was in my school choir. I think I was on TV for about half a second. Oh, and I was on Songs of Praise once too when I sung in the church choir. Funny how TV cameras can fill a church on a cold Sunday evening!

(My choiring days ended after I discovered porn)

I can also be heard somewhere on Pulse, Pink Floyd's 1994 gig at Earl's Court that was filmed for telly and then ultimately DVD. There was a quietish bit and I let out my deafening 'gig whistle'. Can't remember where it was though and I only did it so that I could bore people with the anecdote for years to come...
(Ghostlight, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 10:21, 3 replies)

big brother eviction :o)
It was the year of the Jon Tickle, and a colleague scored some eviction tickets. I was living a mere bus ride away at the time, so i thought why the hell now. We got a decent spot in the audience, and managed to even pop up on screen :)



Full clippet can be found on www.bluemeat.com/me.html in flv format, if any mods fancy being daring and embedding it for me ;).
( bluemeat has been best of all the animals since, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 10:16, 3 replies)

Not on TV as such but nearly the silver screen
A few years ago I was down from uni visiting a mate who was studying at LSE. After a heady night out in the East End where much beer and curry was consumed we stopped off at one of his mates halls to continue the party. The fact that he claimed to have the 'finest weed known to humankind' (debatable but it did its job) and Withnail and I on DVD made this a no brainer.

Round about 4 in the morning we decided it was time to leave. Now John's mate lived close to the Royal Courts of Justice while John's halls were down in the west end. The simplest route was to head down the Strand, cut through Trafalgar Square and then home from there.

Somehow along the way I lost everyone else. Not a problem, as even though pissed and stoned this is still my home town and I know my way around. Stumbling on I ended up wandering down a little side street into Trafalgar Square.

As I made my away across my fuzzy brain slowly came to the realisation that there were some people around me. Bit odd for that time of night, especially as it was the middle of October.

But hang on, it's not just a couple of people, there's hundreds of the fuckers!

And not only that they're all in some sort of cult. No joke, they were all identically dressed in black capes, pointy witches hats and had these horrific white masks completely covering their faces!

I was now seriously freaking out but desperately trying to stay inconspicuous lest they spot me and then ritually disembowel me in front of Nelson's Column in some weird phallic fertility ritual.

But it was all to no avail. As if on some psychic signal the whole lot of the fuckers suddenly starts running straight fucking at me!

Needless to say subtlety be damned. I bloody legged it. Straight out the square, round the corner of the National Gallery, flat out for about 10 minutes. I ended up hiding behind a skip, felt like I was about to have a heart attack. I had to have about 4 cigarettes in a row until I was calm enough to move.

Somehow I stumbled back to John's place and crashed out on the sofa. The next morning I wasn't sure if I'd dreamt it or not. There was nothing on the news about some invasion by a devil-worshipping cult tearing up Soho. It was a total mystery.




Then 12 months later V for Vendetta came out, things made a lot more sense and I felt a complete plonker.
(Milo Minderbinder, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 10:12, 1 reply)

Not quite telly, but a University Video project
One of me work colleagues had to make a 3 minute documentary for his Media Studies course. It was a spoof documentary about the poor exploits of John, and the hardships for which he endured on a daily basis.

I was to play John and after having a good laugh one weekend making it, twas edited by Simon skillfully for his coursework.

I work with about 300 people (it's a big office). I was in the office a few weeks later and some random woman from the other side of the building walks up to me and shouts "Oh my god it's John! Hahahahaha, awesome stuff." "Thanks?" asks I, unknown that the video had been secretly distributed by Simon around the entire department. Recently Simon has been a member of a training team in the same office and plays this video to people on his laptop if the session gets boring. Bastard :)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVUfQeAqegI (has literally just been uploaded, may take a few minutes to work)

So to clear things up for you poor readers I am uploading the vid now to Youtube for your amusement. I won't take the credit for it (even though I'm in it) and bear in mind this was filmed about 7 years ago. To make things more comical, I've just had an operation to have a pilonial sinus removed resulting in surgical dressing put up me ass everyday. Not rizlas.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 9:49, 2 replies)

BBC1
Next Friday at 19:30.

I shit you not.
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Fri 12 Jun 2009, 9:47, 7 replies)

Aged 15 or 16
I was on a school trip in Wales, when I was approached by a voxpop-style film crew. They were advertising a new brand of Welsh mineral water, they explained, and all I would have to do is drink the water and then read off the card. I said that was fine and took up position in front of the camera. Of course, they didn't tell me the writing on the card would be in Welsh.

I dreaded going back to Wales for years after that in case I was the stipuid English guy who can't speak Welsh from the mineral water adverts...
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 9:29, Reply)

How I got my username

How can I put this? There exists a tape, marked: 'Open University Psychology - lessons 1 - 4' in a box in my loft. It contains the ultimate result of a debauched week back in 1994 when the kids were at my parents for the week and me and my ex celebrated our fifth anniversary at home and we'd just bought a brand new video camera.

But I'm sure you lot don't want to hear about THAT.

If any kind b3tans wish to buy me a bottle of Belgium beer this lunchtime, I might be persuaded to describe its contents.
(K.W.A. Knickers With Attitude, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 8:48, 12 replies)

THE BATTLE OF NASEBY
I was suspended four times during my illustrious scholastic career. One time it was definitely my fault, another two times it was because the teachers lacked a sense of humour, and the other time was due to the local BBC magazine telly program, Look East; a magazine programme featuring presenters who were too ugly to get on national TV, wearing shit suits, and showcasing the usual bag of donkey spunk stories about fuck all for the viewing benefit of no one.

It was summer, June 14th, and the PE teacher told us we'd all have to stay behind after school. Fat fucking cunt, that Mr Butler. But he then went onto explain we were going to be on TV as part of a Look East story. Ooooh! Fame! I'll have me a bit of that.

Some fella stood round in the changing room who we assumed was a common or garden paedophile having a butchers at our supple, hairless fourteen year old bodies turned out to be from an English Civil War re-enactment society. Apparently it was the anniversary of The Battle of Naseby and the producers of Look East wanted a bunch of kids to recreate the battle in the background while the ugly fucker presenter did a piece to camera. There were thirty of us in the class, now, I don't know anything except the English Civil War (everything I learned about ye olde tymes was from watching reruns of Dogtanian), but I reckoned there were probably more than thirty people involved in that there battle thing.

So, we spent that PE lesson prior to the TV crew making an appearance practising the fine art of war. We changed into our PE kit and were given a felt tunic to chuck over the top. We looked like a troop of poorly dressed female impersonators. We were also given a long broom handle. This, apparently, was going to be our 'weapon'. Fuck me – I'm surprised anyone got killed at Naseby; I mean, what were they? - swept to fucking death.

We did a bit of drilling, a bit of standing in line and waving these broomsticks about, and then we were ready. And the really cool bit, the REALLY FUCKING EXCELLENT part, was when a few of us who'd excelled in janitorial combat techniques, we're given little squishy plastic packets containing runny red stuff. The fuckers had only gone and given us – a group of teenage boys obsessed with watching Platoon and Apocalypse Now – a load of squibs. We were told how to use them; put them in a special concealed pocket on the tunic and when you 'die' give them a hearty slap, thus breaking the packet and covering the tunic in fake blood. Fuck me.... I really did think I'd died and gone to heaven.... I was stiff at the thought of dying in a gory mess on local television.

Fast-forward to after school. The TV van turned up, the local TV presenter (ugly as fucking sin and wearing a cheap C & A suit), is chatting on camera with our Headmaster and this fella from the re-enactment society. In the background the other lads and I our going through our paces – drill marching, doing a bit of broomstick waving, and generally looking like a mean and moody Roundhead and Cavalier army (only with fifteen soldiers on each side, it looked more like kicking out time at a Weatherspoons pub than a real battlefield, except they'd be a shitload more blood on the ground outside a Weatherspoons). The Look East tosser finishes his little piece to camera and we see the cameraman pan over to us: the big finale. My chance to fucking shine.

I notice where the camera's pointing, break ranks, and decide to do a dying swan routine complete with fake blood directly in front of the camera – my parents would be so fucking proud, I thought. But, to my horror, some other fucker from my class has decided to do the same thing. A twat named Nathanial is hogging my camera time, wailing like a banshee while he slaps the squib on his chest and slumps to his knees. Nat's doing such a fine job that the cameraman actually races over and does an extream close-up of this incredible action, this demonstration of Royal Shakespeare Company-standard death on stage.

And what happened next is how I got suspended for a week.

Without thinking much (never one for thinking things through, me), I raced over, stood directly in front of Nathanial, and proceeded to die. The cameraman looked a bit confused as it did not appear that anyone had pretend stabbed me, but fuck it, he probably thought, and continued to shoot. Then Nathanial reached for me and tried to push me out the way, then I pushed him back. From the corner of my eye I could see my PE teacher, Mr Butcher, start to get a bit nervous. I pushed Nat again, he pushed me again, almost knocking me out of shot. This really pissed me off. I mean, REALLY...

So, with broomstick in hand, I sprang at Nathanial, twatted him across the head with it, and in full view of the audience of Look East (mostly grannies sat in front of the TV doing a bit of knitting), I screamed:

“FUCKING STAY DEAD YOU FUCKING CUNT !!!”

My feet, as they say, hardly touched the fucking floor....
( SpankyHanky, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 8:31, 7 replies)

Broadcast child abuse
In 1982, I was on a school trip at a farm, and we were lined up to file into a shed to see some baby lambs (ahh). Then we noticed some bloke setting up a big camera. Turned out they were from light-hearted teatime current affairs magazine show, Nationwide.

Consequently, two evenings later, there was about ten-seconds of footage broadcast of a queue of 9 year olds goofing about, including myself pretending to strangle the kid in front.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 8:30, Reply)

'I was a contestant on 50/50'
According to my number 25 badge.
(hamstrungbarber chris, 1990, united kingdom, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 7:55, 2 replies)

I'm on TV every single day...
... from the moment I walk out the front door.

One day I'm going to take a brick to that CCTV camera. Bloody surveillance society.
(Capo, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 7:33, Reply)

Hit Man and Her...
...Dancing like I'd shat myself (actually my standard frug). Pete Waterman was horribly sweaty and dances like your dad. Oh, and they have huge TV lights which made it more of a "day" club. Luckily for the happy people of Stockton, they'd brought the Reynolds Girls with them to sing "I'd Rather Jack" (Funnily enough, I got to know one of them about 10 years later)

I'm also featured, well, my arms are, in Squeeze's "A Round and a Bout" live concert.
(Mousy Tongue ...Generally bemused by life..., Fri 12 Jun 2009, 6:56, Reply)

only on the fucking news...
While I can never beat my little sister's claim to fame that she was once spotted on "The Hit Man And Her", I've appeared on the news 3 times.

The first time saw me playing bass on a local news report on the Rock and Roll Looney Party, along with Derek Holt of the Climax Blues Band, the local candidate Mick Hames, and some other nutters.

The second time, I was driving very fast out of the back of the County Court with a prisoner on board and a police escort. My boss did not appreciated the smoke coming from the tyres, or indeed the handbrake turn...

The third time was about a month ago during the Stafford Hospital scandal. The HQ of the organisation demainding the investigation is across the road from where I work, and while the were filming I walked past 5 times.
(coobeastie Used to Be in Evil Gazebo, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 4:08, Reply)

I've...
weedled myself onto a few shows, and yes weedling as a verb is correct english.

I have appeared on a few shows, none of which were interesting, none of which I can tell you about... but I did manage to cause a large curfuffle whilst filming of some film was being done in west london, gawkers in situe, camera crew with mini rail way at large, some blonde women doing her acting bit infront of camera appeared infront of me. Feeling to fit into the idonym of a typical londoner I waltzed straight though ruining the shot...

peeved, I can imagine, but I had to get to camden lock, and my sweatyness wasn't holding no barrs.
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 3:30, 4 replies)

Big Brother
When I was a boy, not yet a man. 17 or so, there was an advertisment on the computerised bulletinboard system (oh, how many wasted hours I spent lurking on First Class) to go to the live Celebrity Big Brother final - it was the year Jack Dee was in it, for those who care.
Being a young punk, I spiked my mohican up, with a bar of soap.
We managed to get right close to the stage, and were able to lean on the railings, towards the beginning of the night, my hair was at the bottom corner of the screen during certain angles, by the end of the night - hardcore rain turned all the soap into frothy, soapy water - which was running down my face and into my eyes. It stung like hell - and my hair disappeared out of the shot.
That is all.
(Davethefan began lurking again on or around, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 2:48, 1 reply)

"And now over to our correspondant at the Rollright Stones for some live drug taking...."
It was one of those barmy summer nights and me and Tim were off our tits on pills. We'd spent most of the night in the studio, until it had become too difficult to focus on the screen and mixing had become impossible. So we adjourned to the sitting room for a spliff and a fight.

Several rounds of Tekken later, and Bill, my flatmate at the time, arrived home and informed us that his uncharacteristic sobriety was born of a desire to drive to the Rollright Stones to see the sunrise, this being the morning of the summer solstice an' all that. This was a brilliant idea, and we were sold on it immediatley, providing that Bill understood that we were spanked off our collective nuts and were going to behave like a pair of cunts for the entire time. Bill was cool with this, so we gathered our shit together and set off.

For those of you who dont know the Rollright Stones, it's a megalithic stone circle in the Cotswolds - en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rollright_Stones. Stonehenge it aint, but it's still a very beautiful site, and it was just starting to get light when we arrived, and there were already quite a few people there. These were exactly the sort of people you would expect to find at an ancient stone monument on the morning of the solstice - druids, witches, warlocks, hippies, crusties, someone playing an acoustic guitar, someone with some bongos, the kind of people who wouldnt look out of place in any of the stories from last weeks QOTW. It was all very peacefull and lovely. We strolled around the stone circle for a while, occasionally stopping to lay our hands on one of the stones to 'feel the vibe, man', then settled next to one of the bigger stones, where we decided it was time we took another pill. In the picture on the wiki link, we were leaning against the tall stone roughly in the middle of the back line of stones.

I got the small packet of pills out of my pocket and began the difficult procedure of extracting a couple of the little buggers out of their cellophane prison. This should have been easier than it was. The packet was jumping around in front of my eyes. Some of the pills had been crushed in my pocket and I didnt want to spill any. I had to enlist Tims help to hold my hand steady, but with some perserverence we eventually ended up each holding a fine piece of kitchen chemistry in our shaky fingers.

We looked one another in the eyes, said "down the hatch!", threw the little white fuckers down our necks and each took a big swig of warm cider to wash them down with. Loverly.

We both clocked the TV camera at the same time. Two blokes stood in the middle of the stone circle, one with one of those furry boom microphones, the other with a fuck off great camera on a tripod, both pointing straight at us. A local news crew there to film the sunrise but who'd unwittingly stumbled upon a couple of herberts blatently taking illegal drugs. The mic had no doubt picked up everything we'd been saying for the last few minutes - "theres still a few whole ones left", "my hands are shaking too much", "how many we done now?", "ooh look a witch", "bollocks I dropped one", "there it is", "got it", "wheres Bill?", "chatting up that gothapotamus with the moustache", "got one?", "yeah, nice one bruv", "nice one", "down the hatch mate", "down the hatch"....

Now in true QOTW spirit, I have to admit that I dont actually know whether this footage was ever actually shown on TV. In some ways, I kind of hope it was.
(Lionel Tiger, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 2:10, 2 replies)

Not me but
A friend of mine was kissing and canoodling in a doorway with his sultry, secret, sordid mistress, when a reporter walked past doing a bit to camera about unnecessary roadworks, which aired locally just after the national six o'clock news.

Thanks to the wonders of PVRs and internets and rewindable live telly, it only took a few minutes for one of his "chums" to put it on YouTube with a red circle highlighting his slobbery snoggerations.

Harsh, but probably fair. He was, after all, a bit of a playboy. Live by the sword, die by the sword!
(Super Jet Shoes, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 1:41, Reply)

I've never been on TV
But I once stood on a television.
In a tip.
(SSSSS, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 1:26, 3 replies)

Newsroom Paper Fight
I used to work for local ITV News, the lunchtime broadcasts were filmed in the newsroom so you had a nice background of a busy news office with people sat at desks working.

One day 60 seconds before transmission someone started a paper fight, rolled up bits of paper were flying around the newsroom I'm sure a few quickly made paper planes also flew around.

The director was having a fit over the audio channel as the countdown began, 10 seconds to go the paper fight continued, 5 seconds to go it was getting worse, 3 seconds to go the presenter had a paper ball bounce off her head and at 1 second before we were live the last ball hit the ground and everyone turned to their computer and pretended to look busy at their desk.
( Terry Oblong There's nobody here but us chickens on, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 0:58, Reply)

Only a week and a half ago!
I was on time team for about 3 seconds. I was digging. (surprisingly enough). I've dug on the last two summer's excavations at Stonehenge, the program just aired.
here I am

I'm the girl in the black top. (almost a boob on show there) The guy in the Greyish top is my mate Chris and the topless guy is another mate of mine, Mikey.
It doesn't look like I'm doing much work but I did so much digging that day I put a hole in my walking boots :)

During the dig I had a lovely drunken conversation with Julian Richards, the presenter of meet the ancestors, he likes The Clash.
(ecilA Alice...has nothing to do, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 0:53, 1 reply)

Corporate Whore.
Yep, thats me, fan-dan-go, lapdog to 'the Man'. And that is exactly how I found myself doing an excruciatingly hammy turn in a cinema commercial on the now defuct satellite channel 'Eat Cinema'.

Unfortunately the channel had about 12 viewers nationwide, so my talent was never exposed to the masses. I could have made it big too!

But if you know of anyone who used to be involved with the channel then get in touch as I would love to track down a copy of the ad for bragging rights.
(fan-dan-go because mutton chops are cool!, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 0:39, Reply)

Two different reasons
I used to be on the telly now and again. I quite enjoyed it and people liked me. Then I took my laptop into PCworld to get it fixed. now I try to avoid getting on the telly.


Paul Gadd

Again!

I should have added Mr Gadd to unexpected nudity. But you would have expected that.
(Pill Popper Thank you Sasha Shulgin, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 0:38, 3 replies)

Boom Boom Boom Boom
I was in the audience for the Vengaboys TOTP special. That is all.
(Martin1337 was trying and failing to be funny at, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 0:22, Reply)

my boobs have been all over the telly
do any of you remember a show on ITV(i think) about ten years ago, called for better or worse? it centred around several couples on the run-up to their weddings.
one show in particular was all about the stag and hen nights.
one stag night was in liverpool, in a grotty pub in old swan. the groom's friends had hired a surprise for him; a roly poly kissogram by the name of Helga the Horrible.

guess who that was?

for about 2 weeks after, clips of the show were aired on chat and daytime tv shws. always the same clip, always me getting my censored baps out...
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 0:20, Reply)

Son of a gun
First timer and all that so I'll have to remember to make the obligitary crack about the length of this post in relation to my penis.

Anyway it was after an Ireland game, can't for the life of me remember who against but long story short ( it wasn't really a long story ) we'd won 2-0 I believe and one Robbie Keane had banged one in.

As we left I was acosted by a woman in a extremely low cut top with camera man and microphone in tow who wanted my opinion on the game. I leaned in close as she asked me my feelings on the game and did that thing where you kind of lean you head down only to realise I had a quite fantastic view of a quite fantastic pair of tits.

I then to my eternal shame / sheer proudness took a deep breath looked in first at her tits then into the camera before motorboating those big breasts for Ireland.

I was quickly shoved away by a furious camera man and some other guy who I hadn't noticed before. Police took me to one side and it took all my wit and drunken apologies for them not to arrest me I think.

In retrospect I'm sure it never made tv and I didn't even recognise what channel she was from which makes this slightly null and void. But still it was damn close to being a moment in television history.

Apologies to you brunette with large boobies if you read this, but I regret nothing.
(Eoghan, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 0:17, 5 replies)

Hmm
Does this count?

www.channel4.com/player/v2/player.jsp?showId=447#

Wait until the end of the "Guilty Pleasures" video, that's me!
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 0:11, 2 replies)

northwest tonight
the bbc love me.

on panorama 'Hooligans' in Stuttgart when it all kicked off with the germans during the world cup 06. just in the background of some scene of a police van speeding past us.

then this year. northwest tonight in rome for the champions league final.
(suboftheday, Thu 11 Jun 2009, 23:46, Reply)