Friday, 30 May 2008
You may recognise this character from Channel 5’s docurama ‘The Four Doormen of The Apocalypse (Nightclub)’. Barry ‘The Fist’ Mason was perhaps the most famous of the four bouncers due to his popular catchphrase “Do you wanna punch in the throat?” There was a three week period in 2003 when every bugger was using that catchphrase, even Tony Blair slipped it into one of his speeches. Barry was enjoying great success, 10% of which went straight into my agent Bernie Shimshewitz’s bank account. As we were both represented by the same agent Barry and I became firm friends and it came as no surprise when he turned to me for advice when his fame began to wane. Turned out that he wanted to use the money he’d earned from the TV show to start a children’s day nursery in East Anglia. He was worried that his nutjob reputation would work against him in the childcare sector but I told him that all he needed to do was soften his image slightly. He achieved this by simply doctoring the LOVE and HATE tattoos on his knuckles so they read GLOVE and HAT. Goodbye Barry ‘The Fist’, hello ‘Uncle cuddles’.
Thursday, 29 May 2008
Wednesday, 28 May 2008
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
Many of history's most famous quotations have been misheard or selectively edited to suit our own purposes. For example we can only be grateful that the first part of S.S Titanic Captian Edward John Smith's cry of "Shoot the women and children first!" was drowned out by a foghorn.
Friday, 23 May 2008
Thursday, 22 May 2008
I was at one of Elton’s (Ben) charity auctions the other week and I thought it was only right that I bid on something. I decided to go in low on a lot that no other bugger seemed interested in and ended up winning dinner for two at Antony Worrall Thompson’s restaurant for £48.72 (I was convinced Sid Owen was going to bail me out with a higher bid but he bottled it at the last.) As it was his birthday I decided to take my agent Bernie Shimshelwitz with me, little did we know but we were in for a shocker. First off AWT’s all over us, camping it up like there’s no tomorrow, in fact if he’d have got any camper he’d have needed a tent. The starters turn up (I had the ocean churn surprise and Shimshelwitz had a glass of red) and the first thing I pull out of mine is a suspect ginger hair. Thompson’s all apologies claiming that it must have come from his beard. That was a lie, his ‘wife’ had black hair. Rumbled.
I decided to take my dear old Nan up to London last weekend to spend some of the royalties I got from that Werther’s Original ad. What a day we had! We headed straight for Harrods to buy Nan a carrier bag and I treated myself to a pork terrine in the shape of Princess Di’s face (delicious). Then it was over to Madame Tussard’s where it took Nan a good hour to realise that the waxworks weren’t real. (I caught her babbling on to Alan Titchmarsh about her hydrangeas.) I’d promised my agent, Bernie Shimshelwitz, that I’d get my photo taken with Freddie Mercury. Bernie had worked with the Queen frontman back in the eighties on an exercise video and he was forever telling me what a personality he was; he says there was something totally infectious about the man. I really fancied going on the London Eye but when we got there Nan said she was going to opt out on account of her disliking of “the gypos that operate big wheels”. Fairdos. I propped her up against a wall and jumped on. It didn’t go as fast as I’d have liked and the cars didn’t rock but the view was cracking. It’s amazing how much cleaner London looks from the air. When I got off I couldn’t see Nan as she was surrounded by a load of people. Turns out that she’s fallen asleep standing up and the tourists thought she was a ‘living statue’, she’d drawn one hell of a crowd and earned 63 quid in the process. As she was doing so well I decided to leave her there for a bit and nipped into Maccy D’s for a fillet O’ Fish. 2 hours later we were on the train home £130 quid richer. Good work Nan.
Wednesday, 21 May 2008
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
I once had the misfortune of understudying Leslie Grantham in a West End production of 'Tootsie'. Old Les was a bag of nerves and paranoid as you like about going on stage. He insisted I was in full makeup before every show in case he choked. Thirteen weeks and the slimy git never missed a show. So there I sat, all alone, looking into the mirror pictured above. Two and a half hours every night with Mick Hucknall staring back at me. Soul destroying
I came across a bunch of photos I snapped when I took a few months out to cruise Route 66 on a chopper. I needed to clear my head after just missing out on the part of ‘Body number 2’ in BBC’s ‘Waking the dead’. I think now, on reflection, the whole episode was one big mistake. First off, I had a bit of a fashion meltdown and I’ll be the first to admit that I looked like I’d come straight out of Sue Ryder rather than Easy Rider. Secondly, riding high on the hog through 8 states can take its toll on the body, especially when you’re riding pillion (or bitch seat as Swampy called it). The old derriere took a proper pounding. I can still taste his leather jacket.
Monday, 19 May 2008
Friday, 16 May 2008
Housewife’s favourite Philip Scholfield is famed for his ever present grin but mention Gordon the Gopher to him and he’ll go ape shit. Back in the day Pip and puppet were the dream team but things started to go tits up when they made the move from the broom cupboard to Going Live. Gordon went right up himself and fell in with the wrong crowd (Dean Gaffney & Tinhead off Brookside). The three of them were down China Whites every night stuffing all sorts up their hooters. The final straw for Pip came when the gopher tried to grab Sarah Greene’s boob live on air. They never worked together again. Last I heard Gordon was working as the head cover for Bob Carolgees’ 3 Wood.
Thursday, 15 May 2008
He wasn’t even a real postman; he took the uniform off a dead one in the Blitz. Shameless.
Wednesday, 14 May 2008
For me the best example of this is in Independence Day when Will Smith chins the alien and says “Now that’s what I call a close encounter!” Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
Friday, 9 May 2008
Thursday, 8 May 2008
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
Friday, 2 May 2008
There is a part of London that will forever belong to my agent, Bernie Shimshelwitz. Namely the square inch of tarmac that claimed his two front teeth when he wiped out after getting cut up by Ken Livingston. If you think Bernie came off bad spare a thought for me, I was on the trick nuts.