I had Uri Geller round my gaff for a dinner party in the mid nineties after which he insisted on doing the washing up. Just look what the smug fucker did to my favourite spoon! The knives and forks, however, were left completley intact. You do the Maths.
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He was guest of honour at a party I held for the youngsters at my local orphanage-unfortunately, he bought his good friend Michael Jackson with him.
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