The Other Lansbury #2

Dear Jim, she wrote....

I should be so Lucky Likey

Here's a picture of me and Kylie at Madame Tussauds in London. I actually went there to get a picture of me with the waxwork of Madame Tussaud but was told they didn't have one. How gutted do you think she'd be?

Ejac of all trades

As an actor/writer it's important to be able to turn your hand to many things, as one never knows what the next role might require. This took me just three afternoons.

This is Chomsky...

...ask him anything.

Typical

Here's a picture of me attempting to break the 'beard of bees' world record. What a day! I missed out on the record by one bee. Gutted.

You try and do someone a favour...

Ted hit rock bottom when Dusty split up the act. For a while I employed him as my chauffeur to help him out, but it couldn't last. He kept veering off onto the pavement to hit bins.

New York, New York...

...so good they named it after York...twice!

Are you Havana laugh?

After announcing his retirement today Fidel Castro was straight on the blower to my agent Bernie Shimshelwitz, "Bernie," he says "get me a cameo on Last of the Summer Wine". Bernie told him he's taking him to the top "From Fidel's Communist Party to 'Fidel's House Party'"

Unruly, Madley, Pee Plea.

I saw a programme once where Richard Madley was spouting on about old English laws. Madley claimed it was still perfectly legal to demand that a policeman allow you to use his helmet if you ever get caught short and need a tinkle. I’d completely forgotten about this until a couple of weeks ago when I went to a Take That concert and properly needed a waz. The queue for the lavs was a good 20 man deep and so armed with my knowledge of Old England I approached a Rosser and requested his headgear. The resulting scuffle is a little foggy to me and as the picture above shows didn’t quite turn out how Madley had predicted. Cheers Rich, I ended up pissing in my pants. Fairdos.

Lies, damned lies and Choppers

If every bugger that said they had one of these, had one of these, 1970s Middle England would have looked like Beijing.....I had a Grifter

The Royal We....And Poo.

I grew up in the picturesqueish village of Huffington which nestles gently in the arse end of nowhere. Here's a picture of our village hall which Prince Charles opened in 1987 with the words "There, done." The heir to the throne went on to utilise the new toilet block. Unfortunately the misplumbed bogs were not man enough to withstand the royal road test and were deemed 'unapproachable' for 3 months. The future King has never returned to the village.

Not his finest hour.

The geezer on the left is my agent, Bernie Shimshelwitz. Here we see him out spending the 12% he 'earned' from my Flymo commercial. The young TV director on the right said he'd like to put me in Casualty. "I was just trying to defend your honour Harrison." Thank you Bernie.

Bad Vibes

I had a hunch that the waiter at my local Chinese was on the verge of a mental freakout when he started dishing out the mis-fortune cookies. I got this one on New Years Eve. Shit.

Jesus saves! But Rooney nips in and scores off the rebound.

These five old dears took a vow of keepie uppie in 1968 and continued it until August 1984 when some Proddy demonstrator volleyed it clean out of St Peter's Square. (note the sweet Puma trainers on the one at the back)

Everyone's a critic

A typical rehearsal room. Or 'The Empty Space' as Peter Brook put it. I for one wish this one had remained empty since 'Kiddie Fiddler On The Roof' got clusterfucked by Michael Billington of the Guardian.

Extreme Marketing #3

Urine the best place Nan.....Honestly!

I knew something had to be done about my dear old Nan's Polish nurse's grasp of the English language when I discovered that she's replaced her catheter with one of these.

I was back on the Nescafe for a good two weeks.

The first rule of Chess Club is; you do not talk about Chess Club...

The Crazy Gang, Ibiza 2004.
What goes on tour, stays on tour.