The town I grew up in was, and still is, always being used as a set for films and TV program
So it was no surprise when the BBC came to my school and said they wanted an 11 - 12 year old for the film they were making.
I got all excited as that was the age I was.

But they wanted a boy and I was not a boy.

This guy got it instead en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Lance

Then he left the school to be all famous and shit.
( Mrs Entity is in hiding., Sun 14 Jun 2009, 20:11, Reply)

I was on
Sooty heights... the crappier one after matthew corbett,
they used to film the shop near my primary school and used us kids a lot...any kids you saw in the show were usually from my school.
it wasn't a crazy occassion but I did get to see all of the puppets
(nikkibic is like a candle in the wind... unreliable, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 18:30, Reply)

does the radio count?
tragically as a pop-obsessed teenager, i was on long wave radio atlantic 252, for those who remember it, twice. the first time i won a CD for being able to sing the "lipsmacking thirstquenching" pepsi thing, and the second time, to my shame, i'd rung in to leave a quote that they then played on their between-shows jingle.



oh, and all those times i was angelina jolie*'s body double, until she got paranoid about me and had me fired, clearly.

* angelina jolie, caroline quentin, whatever.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 18:12, 6 replies)

BBC 1, Autumn Sunday Evenings
I managed to end up in 2 series of a Sunday evening drama back in the mid '90s. Though thankfully VHS has pretty much died and the beeb haven't brought it out on DVD.

Had a great time for the 2 summers of filming, the food on BBC sets is pretty good - in fact despite being 11 I had to have a slightly larger costume nearer the end of the first block of filming.
2 weeks before shooting for the 2nd series began I broke my foot, so had my cast covered with a large sock, and spent a lot of time being shot from the waist up or from behind various objects.

Oh, and I had the opening line in the first episode of the first series.

Length? It was shown at teatime!
( notmyrealname, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 16:57, 2 replies)

OOPs Moment on breakfast news
Picture the scene I have just got off the bus and am heading towards Reading station to catch the 6:30 am train to somwhere in the wilds of Surrey, knowing that if i don't catch this train i've got an hour to wait then I'd be really late for work.
Just I entered the station I am approached by a woman with a tape machine over her shoulder and a microphone this is stuck in my face and she starts to ask me a load of inane questions, panic is now setting in as time for departure is approaching so I say look I've really got to go but she persists, I then blurt out "if I dont catch this fucking train I am well and truly fucked you dozy mare.
I run off in direction of platform leaving a stream of obscenities in my wake.
At lunchtime my mrs calls and say priceless performance on Meridian news this morning I'm surprised it wasn't cut out she said but as it was live they couldn't do a lot except smile and apologise, I had totally failed to spot the lone TV cameraman who was connected to an OB van parked outside and had beamed the entire incident to Meridian breakfast news.
Went to the pub that evening, fuck did I get the piss ripped out of me seems most of my mates had seen it as well.

OH Bollocks
(raith50, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 15:55, Reply)

gameshow
i have been on goldenballs. shame i didnt win and its a shame jasper carrott isnt funny, nice guy though.
( sarah sarah sarah, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 14:54, Reply)

Clapping
This is the story that without fail my dear old Mother tells to anyone she meets.

When I was younger, at Primary School the head teacher was quite high up (maybe President of) in the NUT (National Union of Teachers) or something like that, this meant that our school was often used when BBC News needed some television footage of school children whilst they discussed budget shortages and so forth.

One day they were in and filming our music class, now we can't have been more than 6 or so, and thus weren't trusted with instruments, which meant the whole class was clapping along to a song or something. Everyone managing to do it in time, except for me, which was shown on national TV. Bugger.

My music career has never recovered from that early set back.
( mister.f is now married, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 13:13, Reply)

Keith Allen and I
Glasto '98 I think it was.. Walking around minding my own business and who did I see awkwardly reading his Guardian newspaper? None other than Keith Allen, father of pop troll Lilly Allen. I say 'awkwardly' because The Guardian can be exceptionally hard to read outdoors on a windy day, turning the ridiculously large pages whilst being careful not to spill your coffee perched on an already slanting table in a field. We could see it all start to unfold as he wrestled with the paper and the wind, and after a tense few minutes a couple of pages blew from his grasp and rested a few metres or so down the field. Me, being a helpful sycophantic sort fetched it for him in exchange for a toothy grin and an embarrased 'thankyou my good man'.

Forward to later in the day and my pal Keith is giving a talk in a small gazebo nestled amongst all the hippy stalls. Me, in my bright yellow NOFX shirt, stood out a mile and upon seeing me again gave me the eye and a nod of posthumous thanks whilst in full flow.

Little did I know that this talk was being filmed and was shown on Telly the very next day. Cue then, friends at home watching the festival highlights half asleep when the Keith Allen talk comes on, the cameras, giving an over the shoulder shot, show me wandering into the crowd and Keith raising his hand and acknowledging me like an old friend. Absolutely priceless that bit of tape.
(BeardyMat, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 12:25, 4 replies)

I was on tv once...
but my mum told me to get off before it broke.
*sorry
(lovelysimon I am the lovliest Simon, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 12:23, 3 replies)

Background shots on the News
In Paris, Yokohama and Brussels
( Terry Oblong There's nobody here but us chickens on, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 2:41, Reply)

Wheelies
Back in about 1996 before I had my knee destroyed I worked for Securicor Pony Express, the courier company that supplied all the riders with Black and Blue bike gear and white bikes. I was contracted to a major UK bank working clearing and everyday I did 5 runs around various bank branches picking up work.
As you can imagine the work was boring. Same thing everyday really did our heads in so to make things a bit more fun we would do some pretty illegal things in the traffic. The usual no hands, eyes closed, skids, wheelies, pretty much anything to pass the time.

Now that summer the Police were having a crackdown on cyclists jumping traffic lights. They claimed the worst junction in the UK for this was the junction of Earls Court road and High Street Kensington to the south of Holland park. So one morning they had a big operation there with 20 or 30 foot officers and invited ITN news down for publicity. Now I didn't really notice them, I was generally more than half asleep or hung over in the mornings and so just drove as usual, it was only the next morning when I got a call from the Boss that I found out what I had done. I had been sitting at the lights and pulled away straight up onto the rear keeping the front in the air passing behind the Senior Officer being questioned who didn't notice nor did the camera man as he didn't pan to follow me. Unluckily I was the only rider with long auburn air so even though the plate wasn't visible and I didn't get fired I still got a bollocking but even the Boss admitted it looked good.
(Sickpup, Sun 14 Jun 2009, 0:13, 3 replies)

I was on MOTD. Watched it with my friends once......
Never really posted before so I thought now was the perfect time to bore you all with my rambling stories.

I used to be a ball boy for what call themselves a football team from Bolton. 5th round FA cup v charlton 2001 and we were 1-0 up with a man sent off.

My spot was behind the goal in front of the away fans and we were getting increasingly battered. I was getting more and more angry with each attack and i was behind the goal they were attacking which meant i was on a lot of replays.

5 mins to go and 'keeper pulls off an amazing save promting me to leap up, on national telly, and give their striker a quite astonishing foul mouthed tirade about how shit he was (i put the osbournes to shame with the use of the f-word).

That made me feel "well 'ard" in front of my mates (high-fives, get in there lad, you tell him... that kind of accolade), until the very next replay which showed me cowering behind the goal being pointed and shouted at by a gorilla of a policeman telling me i was gonna get arrested. Being 16 i was naturally visibly crapping my pants about being locked up (goody 2 shoes till my late teens).

I have never gone from super cool guy to big fat soft arse so fast in my life! I still hear my friends laughs at night.
(lovelysimon I am the lovliest Simon, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 23:32, Reply)

When I was a wee Chipper
I was in the Sea Cadets, and between learning how to play blackjack and gathering round to smell a thick rope that smelled suspiciously like hemp, we would occasionally have to be seen in the public eye. This took place in the form of a trip to London, where we would be celebrating the anniversary of the battle of Trafalgar. This was also a day of a massive student protest, which will become important in the story later on...

Put simply, it was shit. Absolutely terrible, the parade was a waste of time (I simply faked passing out to get put into a dark and cool room with a glass of water, beats standing around in the blazing sun for another THREE HOURS!) and I couldn't wait to get back on the coach for the gruelling 13-Hour coach ride back to Plymouth.

Things did look up after the Parade, however and we were led into a hotel where I loaded up on free coke and as much watermelon as i could cram into my prepubescant (sp?) face. This did not mix well in my stomach, but I put it to the back of my head and carried on with the days' proceedings, which involved seeing the sights of London. Cue a rampage of tiny teenagers dressed up like sailors running rampant around London.

When the instructors actually managed to reign us in, we marched smartly down a road, where we were promptly blocked in by a massive student protest against something, Pot Noodle prices, whatever. Above us was a helicopter for Sky News, catching the action live as it happened.

Eventually, I felt my stomach churning as it hit the point of no return. I quickly turned around and painted the pavement with a thin veneer of watermelon and coke, my throat burning with every heave. I immediately recomposed myself and acted as if nothing happened, unaware that I had projectile vomited in front of millions of viewers, and considering I was in ceremonial dress with the big white cap, it couldn't even be considered inconspicuous. I guess everyones fifteen minutes of fame cant always be glamorous!

Length? About two feet wide, and a rather putrid odour!

*POP* Fuck, it's all in my eyes!

Apologies for lack of funnies, you had to be there!
(chopper_harris is giving you a reach-around on, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 23:18, 2 replies)

Me on slightly crap local news.
Years and years and years ago, when I was living in Portsmouth, I got stopped in the street by a film crew who were asking about what people thought about letting gay men into the Navy. I looked straight into the camera and said something quite witty.

Now, I forgot all about this, as you would, until I got home one day and my flatmate got all excited that I had been on the telly. She had videoed it, showed it to all our friends which was sort of nice.

The station played it all week because I think it was "news" and I guess they didn't have much material to work with.

So Andy, that was my 15 minutes.
(lympicita_ie, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 21:09, 3 replies)

My younger brother
had a friend some ten years ago that I shall refer to here only as "the chav", and it is to these two that this story applies.

Bruv and the chav had been friends since roughly the end of school, and hung around under the same slides/ sitting in the same empty garages/ attending the same free house parties for the next few years, mostly drinking cider. After around four years of their association, the whole arrangement was brought to an end when the chav's parents divorced, sold their house and went their separate ways, leaving the chav with no choice but to leave our backwater edge-of-london market town and move with his septuagenarian father to a murky part of the East End, where pops set himself up in business, selling "erotic massage" to ladies above a certain age via the magic of small ads.

As in most cases of this ilk, contact was maintained initially, but as the weeks turned to months turned to a couple of years, the inconvenience of over-long train journeys and the ease of access to each of other, more geographically favourable friends led to contact becoming less frequent and eventually lost.

Where News International, publishers of The Sun, launched Sky TV, the publishers of its tabloid rival, The Mirror, launched L!ve TV. It lasted only a few years, but that was to be expected given the quality of its programming - the only parts of the schedule in the public eye were "News Bunny", in which the headlines where read by a presenter whilst a man in a rabbit costume mimed his response to the story (pretty much limited to "happy bunny" and "sad bunny"), and two weather shows, one read in Norwegian by a woman in a bikini, the other in English by a dwarf on a trampoline.

One morning, Bruv was off work and surfing the the hell that is cable daytime tv, after the accepted fashion - skip, wait a few seconds, skip, wait a few seconds, ski.... as he was about to jump from L!ve TV to the next channel, a familiar voice came from the TV.

"Have you seen my sheep?", it asked. It was the chav. In a dilapidated concrete East London shopping centre. Holding a crook, and wearing a gingham dress.

Over and over again, the chav approached the hard-faced, betracksuited locals, and repeated the refrain "I'm Little Bo Peep. Have you seen my sheep?", for which he usually received a very strange look, and the occasional laughter or obscenity. After a few minutes, the whole affair drew to a close, and the chav re-appeared in his street clothes with the show's presenter, who thrust a sum in the region of £7 into the chav's hand and waved him on his way.

The show pressed on without the chav, but revealed its format - the presenter walked around various low-rent neighbourhoods, and encouraged people living on subsistence incomes to humiliate themselves for a few pounds for the viewer's amusement.

As the formula repeated itself over and over, Bruv reached for his mobile, intent on mockery. He was not hopeful, as the chav was wont to lose, sell or disconnect his mobile every few month as his finances dictated. He looked up the last number that he had, and dialled it. It rang. A familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"
"Y'right chav. Guess who I've just seen on tv?"
There was a pause. From the chav there came awkward silence, from Bruv the noiselessness of a smirk.
"I never thought anyone would ever see that."

Bruv then rinsed him, as only friends are able.
(cs1ca, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 21:07, 1 reply)

I was on telly! Eventually...
My buddy was picked out of a crowd at a gig to take part in a new dating show, a gloriously failed concept called Perfect Match that aired a few years ago.

I was his +1 guest.

Free food, as in a feasty BBQ and all the free chilled beer you could want, paid for in full by channel 4, while throughout the day the cameras are tracing antics of 50 boys in mens skin.

However, the show was due to be shown on the day the twin towers were hit, so was put back a week or 2.

Most of the show had me either drinking or playing the mighty ps2 in a fair few shots, which was marvellous. My friend on the other hand was made to look like a psychopath, desperate for the girl in question. He had a whole 15 seconds of air time dedicated to him.

Good times.
( McBadger COW, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 20:22, Reply)

On the news at xmas
When we was little, there was this house in the next road to us, that always used to outdo the entire neighbourhood with christmas lights every year.
One year, me and my family were asked to go round the house. The inside of the house was covered in lights and decorations, and there was a lot of other kids in the living room.

They stuck on a sing a long video and we were all told to sit down and sing. Unbeknown to us, a news crew were there to do an interview with the home owner and also filmed us all singing along to this video. It made the news that night, and i can vaguely remember watching it, i was very young at time. Was so cool to spot myself on tv at that age.
(circle, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 19:19, Reply)

Through the Arched Window.
My father is a farrier and amongst other places he used to work for a near by riding school where I also used to ride.
Another thing this riding school did was something called Riding for the Disabled. This is where mentally and physically disabled children get to ride. As I'm sure you can imagine the freedom riding a horse give a disabled child is wonderful. (I'll let you make your own jokes).

Anyway, Pa was working there when they got a call from the BBC asking if they could make a short film of the riding school. The plan was that they were going to follow a day in the life of a horse.
This would involve him being shod - hence Pa's involvement.
They also asked if they could have a child who could ride and groom the horse. So Pa suggested me.

Now he didn't think to mention this to me until the presenter from Playschool, the one who was in that Doctor Who too, came round for a cup of tea. Now this confused the living shit out of me. People on the telly lived in the little box in the corner, everyone knew that, so how come she was in my house. Anyway that was all I saw of any PlaySchool types.

So I was booked to have time of school and filming started.
There was father, shoeing the horse, mother sweeping the yard, and I am asked to groom the horse get on him and ride him into the field.

Now what I had failed to mention was that I couldn't ride. Everyone figured I could and I had been too frightened to put them right. I mean, I had a horse, and I had riding lessons, but like someone who has had only a few driving lesson, I wasn't competent to be alone. Also I didn't like riding, or give a fig about horses so I never really put much effort into riding. The only reason I had the lessons was that they were free and I only had a horse because we had an empty field.

So I was asked to ride Poddy (for that 'twas his name) into the field. So I got on and let him amke his own way there, the problem came when we got into the field and all the other horses came up to us a surrounded us.
If you ever see the footage then you will notice it cuts when I start to look scared and realise I can't get off the damn thing because of all the other horses which scare me shitless.

So filming ended, I got paid with a PlayAway album and a PlaySchool ballon and went back to school. My Ma, Pa and Uncle told all their friends to watch it and we went out and bought a Video Recorder just for the occasion. ( this was about 1981 they where damn pricey).

What my folks didn't understand was why people kept coming up to them and say things like "We didn't know" and "what happened?".
When my Uncle went into work the next day people just avoided his gaze and muttered into their coffee.
What we didn't realise was that my section was only about half of the film, the other half was about the disabled kids and everyone (who didn't know me or hadn't seen me for a while) assumed I was one of the
disabled kids.

We still have a video.


Sorry for lack of funnies, but it is as long as a horses, and they are damn long.
( Mrs Entity is in hiding., Sat 13 Jun 2009, 19:02, 2 replies)

Weird job interview in a big office
I turn up early at reception and give them my name, and the lady behind the desk sends me up some corridors. I am a bit nervous, as I have been looking for a decent accountancy job for sometime. So when I turn up outside the interview room there is a woman already waiting for me, who calls me in.

She sits me down though, and says that she's not the one going to interview me but she is getting me ready for the interview. Oh, very professional thinks I. She quickly adjusts my clothes and tidies me up a bit, then rather oddly she sticks a microphone on my jacket before ushering me through another door behind her, where someone else is waiting to lead me to the interview room. I think they must record their interviews for training purposes; all very professional thinks I. Then I arrive at the interview room.

Odd job interview; rather than wanting to check my credentials all they seemed interested in was asking me about some music licensing? All very strange; I don't use Limewire or anything like that (my cousin does back home, but I'm not going to tell my possible future employer that). It looked like the interview was not going that well, so eventually we both agreed to stop as this was not my specialist subject and I went my own way. I didn't get the job, but I heard alot of talk about the interview.

Yours sincerely,

Mr G Goma.

PS Stop using my fucking head in gifs you caaaaaaaants :D
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 18:59, 1 reply)

Bombastic
I, Darryl Snow, am the national TV weatherman on China's state-run international TV channel, CCTV9 - their equivalent of 'BBC World' but without the political commentary (obviously).

I got the job not on the basis of my meteorological qualifications (or total lack thereof), CV, appearance or manner, but simply because of my surname. It's an English language channel but still retains a daily audience of around 42 million.

Aside from the abundant opportunities to play on my name during the summer ("speaking of snow, th's no snow today!"), what I most enjoy is the word game I play with my friends. They challenge me by suggesting a word that I must somehow slip into a 90 second weather programme on a very conservative TV channel that most viewers already struggle to understand. The best ones so far have been: ameliorate, penetrate, toodle pip, thwarted, polygonal, inveigle, discombobulate, and bombastic.

I also never wear pants or socks while recording.
(dazsnow the "ever amazing" - cowjam said so once, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 18:32, 4 replies)

Hm
Lets see:

15 to 1 for schools... that was odd.

Was in a group of hungover British schoolboys who were interviewed by Greek TV on the climb up to the Acropolis in Athens.

Interviewed for the Brazilian equivalent of Match of the Day when drunk and in the stands at the Sao Januario Stadium watching Vasco da Gama play (November or December 2000 I think).

Interviewed by Dagestani TV for a program about the experience of students in the UK. Apparently my friend has a copy of that somewhere. The journalist didn't really speak English, and I'd been drinking.

Oh and I met Philippa Forrester once...
(Zapiola zip-zap-zop, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 18:22, Reply)

The Strip Club Incident
In 1983 the north Denver suburb of Arvada had elected some conservative council members. They decided to make it their mission to close the town strip club. Different zoning and planning tactics were tried, but the club had been in town for a long time and wasn't subject to their new rules. Finally, the town used a trump card - they pulled the club's liquor license.

Unfortunately for them, liquor wasn't required to run a successful strip club and by removing the liquor license, any age restrictions were also removed. Cue herds of happy 13-year-old boys sipping $3 Cokes while bemused naked women danced for them. The situation lasted 3 days before the council relented and returned the liquor license. 3 glorious days for the local lads.

So, how does this relate to the QOTW? The local paper sent a columnist to do a story, and the local news TV station was not about to be outdone. Channel 8 ran a story using stock footage - which showed a big guy on a Harley parking in front of the place and walking in. When I took off my helmet the camera had a great view of my smiling face.
(danalan Pretty good, for an amateur., Sat 13 Jun 2009, 16:52, 1 reply)

Match of The Day
I support Sunderland and I was on MOTD. They were doing a piece on how the attendance at the SOL had dropped. Meanwhile, I had snook past a couple of stewards into an empty section of the stadium to watch teh footy. MOTD then show me as the only one in the section (which I was) to prove their point. Woo!
( The_Commander_of_Skips wears his sunglasses at night, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 15:28, Reply)

Woo
I met Adrian Chiles (nice bloke) and got knocked out of the quiz cos I fucking HATE Catherine Tate.

Grr. bitch cunt bollocks
( The_Commander_of_Skips wears his sunglasses at night, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 15:25, Reply)

My 4 kids and their 9 cousins were all on TV when North West tonight visited our local park
and several of them are b3tans - you know who you are!

One cousin lobbed litter into shot as John Mundy chatted to camera from a rowing boat and several doughnutted the presenters during every link.

The youngest, aged about 4, was asked by Stuart Hall how many ponies she had, to which she truthfully replied 'fthrreee!'

We all had a great time. I have the programme on video and will have to have it DVD'd up one day.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 13:53, Reply)

stabbing a glove
I've been on tv three times but never seen any of them. The most memorable was for The People's Record on Channel 4, an irreverent challenge-based show where I had to stab between the fingers of a ketchup-filled glove really fast. I won.

It's not on youtube but I really want to see it!!
(badfox1 wonders who he's played by this episode on, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 11:09, Reply)

The Priory
I went with my brother and a couple of his mates who'd got tickets to be on The Priory. Turning up at a warehouse in the Caledonian Road area, we got in quickly to find beers sat on a table for the audience, which was nice. Would have been nicer if we'd got there earlier and more than two each, sniff.

Working in telly, i had some idea of where the camera's were most likely to be, and chose a good seat. My brother and chums thought they'd be best off down the front for their 15nanoseconds of fame. They weren't seen at all.

I however, had clearly chosen the bestest seat ever. Because i was sat on the end of a row at roughly chest height, it was the prefect spot to put George Best, a guest on the show. So i made way for Mr. Best, and got to shake one of Britains greatest footballers hands. Then in another segment a woman in a red top and i were asked to make way for Jamie and Zoe, woman in red top promptly stood in front of me, so constantly tried to peer around her, looking like i was some loon on ecstacy/medication.

After the studio was stopped for a commercial break, Zoe asked me and a few others to think who we thought were overrated. I was the third person to be asked by Zoe. However, I'm most proud of my thumbs up when George was introduced. Pure class. www.youtube.com/watch?v=SKYdRxNMGH0

I used to work in the basement at BBC TV Centre, and knew all the various ways to get into the studios. For awhile in the late 90's i was often seen in the audience at Jools Hollands show, after sneaking in.
(bukowski_jr whatever, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 9:56, Reply)

this sounds made up
but it's actually true ( www.abc.net.au/lateline/stories/s474408.htm )

A couple of people I knew got interviewed on TV as representatives of the 'Dole Army' - a masked group which lived in storm water drains and advised people how to defraud social security. I was one of the 'extras' - I was the leader of the Williamstown branch I think. You'd think they'd have caught on when one of them got leaves from a tree "to make soup like the blackfellas showed us."
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 8:32, 3 replies)

No.
Never on TV but several times in the local paper dressed as a Welshgirl. Actually no, dressed in a tea towel with a flower pot on my head. God bless my stingy mother.
(i_mustnt_panic, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 8:25, 1 reply)