I am healed! Now I know that my stalking days are over! For I have, for the first time in my albeit short but incredibly staple-filled life, I have showed remarkable strength in the face of adversity and preternatural restraint in the face of a celebrity. Yes, I did NOT approach a celebrity in the street, point at them, and say: you're off the telly.
My brush with celebrities began when I was in my early twenties and the series The Office was being shown for the first time on TV. One evening I got on the tube home at Warren Street and, leaping onto the train, I bumped into TIM FROM THE OFFICE, otherwise known as Martin Freeman. Instead of tipping him the nod to let him casually know that I had clocked him, but was mature enough not to approach him, I went right up to him, pointed at him, and said: "You're Tim from The Office or some other such banality. Not to be put off by his non=committal yes, thanks and the fact his body language was saying something else, probably with four letters and ending with something that rhymes with duck, I continued: "I really love The Office. It's brilliant" (How I CRINGE now)
"Yes, thanks."
I was unstoppable. Someone should have, for the love of all that is good and true in this world, stopped me, before I asked: "So, what are you doing now?"
Tim-from-The-Office looked terrified. His voice went a little trembly and squeaky as his balls crept back up inside. "Er... I'm just going out with friends."
In my defence, I was actually asking him what project he was going to be working on now the first series had finished, but I was by then (alas! too late) too self conscious to try to explain. I sat down and contented myself with occasionally nudging whoever sat next to me and saying: "Look, that's Tim from The Office".
Since then I have met several celebrities and behaved most inappropriately. I have told Dermot McMurnaghan (the fit news reader with the static eyebrow) that I didn't realise he had to wear so much make up when he went on TV. Gyles Brandreth made me laugh so much that I ended up snorting tea out of my nose in front of him when I was interviewing him.
I have captain-saluted Richard Gere while he was surrounded by heavies and beauties and some heavy beauties). To his credit, he did salute me back, before he realised he didn't know who the hell I was.
This was at the same after-show party where I decided to drag a Canadian friend of mine called Helen around in search of celebrities to accost/rob/find out where they live so I could go home first and shave their cats. Poor Helen had to endure me becoming extremely pompous and pointing out our English stars in the room ("Look! That's the shit one from Steps, called H"). We walked past Vanessa Feltz who was talking to someone. As we passed, I became pompous again in the style of, as Gorilla Bananas has suggested, Rowan Atkinson as Blackadder. "Hey, lookin' good, 'Nessa", I said, pointing at her and nodding.
"Thanks" she smiled, before she realised she had no idea who the heck I was. But that was not the worst thing in the world. That came later, when I poured urine all over 50 years of British Film Making History.
We were standing around watching some boring dancing lesson from some overpaid wussbags Gloria Gaylord and Sebastian Schlong-Slinger Latin duo. I noticed an elderly lady next to me trying to stand on a chair so she could see. There was an even more frighteningly ancient mariner, with grey beard and weeping rheumy eye, trying to hoist her up.
"May I help?" I asked.
"No thank you my dear," she said, turning to me and beaming sweetly. That smile! Those eyes! It was...
"Honor Blackman!" I breathed in awe.
She smiled again, beatifically, Diana-like. I know I should have just bowed graciously, and remembered Santa Honoria as the one celebrity that did not request me to remain at least 100 meters away from her or any member of her family.
Sadly, I did not.
I said: "You recently won an award, didn t you? I read it in the paper."
Her eyes turned to steel, her Bond Girl smile froze into a sneer.
"Yes. Sexiest Over Seventy." She hissed venomously.
I shrank. I felt small, insignificant, unworthy. Rejected by Honor! What a disgrace. I think at least she could have been more kind to me, after all, I had initially offered to assist her...
I have often thought how different things would be now that I am an internationally-known (ahem) award-winning investment writer, venerated throughout the world and a favourite show-up at the opening of an industry envelope. Oh yes, if Honor and I should chance upon each other, probably at one of Elton John's tea parties, how different it would be now.
"Mermaid? Of Moorgate? I saw you in Oceans 25."
My eyes would narrow to mere slits as I gazed past her royal oldness. Perhaps I would brush my sleeves down nonchalantly.
"Yes?"
"I love your work..."
"Do you now, Honor. DO you?" I would ask, licking the very tip of my finger and sneeringly smoothing it over my ever-so-slightly-raised eyebrow. "Not so proud now, are we, you scraggy-necked, crack-snorting, TV-sitcom rabid whore?"
"Please forgive me - I was wrong to have snubbed you. I did not know - how stupid I was..."
"You disgust me, you aged, drop-breasted harpy. You foul, death-dodging animated cadaver. You smell like the suppurating pus-filled passage of a dead armadillo. Begone!"
"Please - I didn't mean..."
"Dmitri? Luigi? Take this scrawny hag outside. If she should happen to meet with an accident, then it s not your fault. And bring her respirator drip back as a trophy."
And I would laugh the laugh of one who laughs the last laugh.
Perhaps, though, I should thank her rather than seek her not timely enough demise. In fact, it was probably Honor who set me on the path to recovery, although Alan Rickman, Gary Oldman and Jeremy Paxman have obviously conspired against me by deliberately putting pictures of themselves in my hard drive in unnatural poses with kittens and gardening gloves just to be cruel. But I know where you all live, oh yes I do, and I can see your bathroom from my van, Gary. Oh yes. Those staples in your sink, where do you thin they came from Gary, eh? Eh? Mua ha. Mua ha ha ha. Mua ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
But I have fought againt this natural propensity and I have won. For yesterday I came face to face with Ross Kemp, aka Grant Mitchell from Eastenders. And I let him pass. I did not even salute or throw a stapler at him.
I just looked straight ahead and went on my way. I swear that, as I walked down Oxford Street, the theme tune to Chariots of Fire began to play softly in the background. I was a conqueror.
Should that Gary come looking for me, offering me fine office stationery, I know I can gently, but firmly, turn him down. Not this time, Gary, not this time. And you know you re not allowed near me or a member of my cats. Please leave..." And I would smile, beatifically, saintly, as I waved Gary Oldman on his way to rehabilitation.
Saint Mermaid of Moorgate, patron saint of stalkers and weird religious nuts everywhere.
105 comments:
there's definitely a knee on that saint. are you sure that's you?
there's a lot of things wrong with that, for a start, I was holding a Euro Boss office stapler original, for use with 26/6 or 24/6 staples only.
bout my cat food. my payrents has tried to fool me or fuel me by offering me bits of loverly organic roste chicken and stake and fish and things but i is not stoopid, oh no, i has sniffed it and checked it but i no it is not reel food cos reel food comes from the bag of mr hills sigh-ens, and gives a luverly tinkel in the bole and it gose crunch crunch crunch. monty mite like it two.
wot is a celebrate, my dad sez it is sumwon like cliff richard cos he is like me a celebate.....i think i may be missing sumthink hear but i is not shure.
biggles the thortful and toppest cat.
NOPE
Shit post
I wasnt mentioned once.
Hullo Biggles. I am sure monty would like Mr Hills Sigh-ens. He certainly likes food per se.
A celebrate is not quite the same as a celebate, except in Cliff richard's case, as he is a celibate celebrity.
A celebrity is someone who is famous and therefore stalking material for me.
ODE TO A HITCH
The Hitch! Who can deny the fact
The man's a cunning host
Although he gets in on the act
Of every single post.
Oh Hitch, not every single thing
Is written just for thee
Except this lovely bit o'rhyme
So sweetly penned by me.
Dear Hitch! Please never sulk and cry
For you are welcome here
And though I may not mention you,
You fans still hold you dear.
Perhaps you wish for me to stalk
You often and anon
But no! I will not walk that walk
My stalking days are done.
Is that enough of a mention for you, oh Hitch?
Mermaid, I used to have the opposite problem - plenty of "faces" round Wimbledon where I used to live, but invariably I would clock the familiarity but not the name, and stare at the fuckers while frantically thinking "who is that...christ I know him/her, they're going to think I'm a complete bastard for forgetting where we know each other from...etc" Over the years I blanked James Hunt, John Sessions, Dirty Den (whatever his real name is), various tennis players, Rula Lenska, & Chris Perry (footballer.) Probably some mild form of delusional egomania at work but out of London now so no longer an issue. Congratulations on your Ross Kemp epiphany (and try working him into doggerel - all I can think of is "hemp"...or Prince Charles pronouncing "damp.")
Indeed Verge - and nice to see a new face on my blog, so to speak. Perhaps I can virtually stalk you in verse too?
Perhaps it's a blessing that you blanked Rula Lenska. from what I can remember she is a bit of a diva. Or am I thinking of Lida Miscow?
Friend of mine's French exchange student once saw La Lenska sitting on the lawn outside the Crooked Billet and said "this mean it rain soon, non?"
Don't get me started on the versifying...
Verge/merge/bitch/glitch/stitch/
witch/flitch
(And I now know beyond all doubt that something DOES rhyme with orange because I've walked - under protest - up the bastard)
Thank you "S"
As to star sex attacks
I was once felt(I didnt volunteer) up by a member(female) of the Coronation street cast, and no it wasnt Janice Battersby , although a chum of mine claims to have seen her drop a man with one punch on canal street(a fucking true story of mancunian life)
ross kemp
ahahahahahahhahah
the effiminate midget???? ahhahahah
I gave out a Jim'll Fix It badge on his show once.
The Mermaid wrote a ream of prose
For Hitch, who's getting up her nose
He tries to gatecrash every tale
Whilst trying to pose as Alpha Male
But Hitch, an Alpha Male should be
Too busy climbing this life's tree
To spend his hours chasing fishy
Mermaids, even if they're dishy
My advice to Hitch is that
He buy himself a handsome cat
And, shaving so's to get less hairier,
Walk it in the Moorgate area
poets breakfast musely
& then shit all day
Idle
My advice you is to fuck off .
(+:
I once saw Honour Blackman in Oxford Street.
That's it. What do you expect, a freekin monologue?
I had that Bryan Ferry in the back of my car once.
I said I GAVE OUT A JIM@LL FIX IT BADGE ON HIS SHOW ONCE !
Jeeeesuss Christ ! What does someone have to do to get a little respect around here ?
you just had to bring up celebrity embarrassments didnt you , I have been trying to forget mine , but you callously ripped that scab off.
OK I may have got very very drunk , and told a rather startled Alison Moyet I wanted to have her babies and then fell over , and thats all I am owning up to
Well I'm not surprised Tim Freeman wanted you to disappear. His character in the office dumped a slim blond chick because he was in love with the one with a big arse. I bumped into Zoe Strimpel the other day. I told her she was a fat slag who could only pull men when they were drunk. Just kidding! Zoe wasn't in the Congo and I wouldn't have been so rude to that gorgeous temptress. Just kidding! She's really ugly and not fit to paint your toenails, Mermaid.
I know several 'famous' people e.g. my old friend Barbara Amiel keeps writing me begging letters as she says she has run out of stockings and Paul Weller is living in my bathroom
I hope your stalking days aren't over....I still hope you give alan rickman a run for his money. The reason you walked past grant mitchell is probably hormonal. I bet you've just finished your period, am I right? Give it another 28 days and you'll be camped outside Rickman's house (found it yet by the way?)
Hitch -
"Idle
My advice you is to fuck off."
So simple, and yet so funny.
Idle - take no notice, I loved the rhyme - SEE WHAT YOU HAVE STARTED?
Verge - you can merge on my blog anytime. Still can't think what rhymes with orange, unless you spell Christmas very wrongly.
E-Kevin.. REALLY? YOU gave out a JIM'LL FIX IT BADGE? NO WAY! Big respec' to the e-k, down with the homies, innit man?
that 'nuff respec' for your tale of celeb brushing?
Beast - "OK I may have got very very drunk , and told a rather startled Alison Moyet I wanted to have her babies and then fell over , and thats all I am owning up to"...
No, it's not, we want to hear more... what was her answer (like we don't know?)
Mutley - I am sure Paul Weller pays his rent like the good little boy he is. Don't knock it.
EmmaK- yes, I really really do know where Alan Rickman lives. Or at least, I have his partner's address, which is the same thing. And yes you were right...
No, mermaid, YOU started it. It was your ode to a hitch that prompted my response. And then hitch was rude to me and now EVERYTHING'S RUINED!
Oh Idle, don't be sad. I'll send you my best stapler to cheer you up... x
Mermaid the rhymer is Blorenge, a large hill nearby. Amazing views from the top, if you can still see when you get up there. Paragliders use it as a launch-pad; local kids use it for arson-practice in the summer holidays weather permitting. "Sweet especial rural scene", as a twisted tongue once remarked about something else entirely.
"You smell like the suppurating pus-filled passage of a dead armadillo".. what a turn of phrase you have mermaid... how would you know?
MMoM , I will give you a clue , the lovely Miss Moyet's answer began with an F......
was it "F*** me please, I'd love to have the Beast's babies?"
Such language from a sunday school teacher.
"come on baby tells me all about your SIPP , whilst you lick my neck and pull my hair"
I tell you, this blog is really going down market.
Hello Hitch, thought you were boycotting my cat.
*in Sid James voice*
"I would love to meet your cat"
ha ha ha
"Talk to me about collaterallized debt options and tell me that you love me."
yeah Im back , couldnt stay away, you fascinate me.
I get the impression that you would drive me up the f***** wall face to face, but here I am.
Actually, I'm quite laid back as a person. But I do think I'm funny, so perhaps that can be annoying for people who are less secure in themselves than you are, oh Hitch!
So
in the Evening standard personals Mermaid you would be.....
GSOH(lunatic)
Sociable (alcoholic)
Animal lover (flat smells of cat pee)
Adventerous ( doesnt want to spend every night sat in whilst you guffaw to your freinds down the phone or use the computer))
Good home maker (can work microwave)
Enjoys cosy nights in (you will neversee your friends ever again)
Loyal( cheat on me sunshine and I will cut off your balls and stuff them in your mouth)
Gary and Uma tried to buy my Ex's Ex's parents house. But her Dad didn't want to sell it to "showbiz types".
Wow! Lilith, that's a fab star story! Seems we live in a high-flying world where we brush shoulders with celebs. Except for Beast it seems - he gets the brush off, unfairly too..
Hitch - darn it! you saw my ad
Verge - thanks for the Hill rhyme. Now, what rhymes with: C'mon Verge, let me read your posts?
Mermaid - let you read my posts? Don't follow. The only posts I make are here and chez Hitch. (Took the name verge in honour of the moment in his buddy Maxx's pornprose that made me choke on my Gachot-Monot.)
You should read the posts on the Blorenge, though - literally; the hoodies scrawled a sad/funny memo about an orgy on the wooden posts of a disabled access-ramp to the canal.
I was in a lift with Boy George and Culture Club once...but I was too embarrassed to say anything.
Would you not try restrain yourself. Hillarious!
I think that, deep down, everyone wants to get revenge on people who tormented them at high school by being suddenly super famous and seeing their one-time adversaries humbled and humiliated and in awe of their childhood punching bags. You'd look at them, now divorced, living in a shelter, broke, probably dying of some blood infection and say, 'Did we go to school together? Really? I don't remember. Oh well, hope its all going well for you.'
I didn't say, Mermaid. I thought this post sublime. Well done.
In fact YOU are sublime.
I think you are destined for greatness - I mean really.
I've had a few celebrity encounters but none as great as these. Is it just instinctive of you to throw up a salute now and then ? I love that. You don't have to salute me or stand when I enter a room - I'm quite relaxed about such things, which is good because no-one salutes a mere engine driver anyway.
In fact I'm hopelessly HOPELESSLY in love with you, Mermaid - but I wouldn't show it ... apart from telling you just now - D'oh !
But I know you're way out of my league and will just have to swoon from somewhere on the touchline at your literary prowess, your savvy, humour and your outrageous beauty. It was merciful of you to remove your portrait - thank you, my heart was aching so much that it was going to burst.
Ahhh ! Alas. You are way WAY out of my league. And besides, I'm married to a princess of my own and we have two nippers. Don't you realise ? But for the fact that I might have been single, blessed with manly cleft chin, biceps, luxuriently hairy chest and six-pack. If I'd been more handsome than I already am, and successful and better educated ... and better bred. Oh Mermaid - don't you see how close we came that ours would have been a match made in Heaven ? It was that close, darling.
I love you with ALL my heart. But I must let you go. (blub)
Swim free, little fishy - for the world is your oyster, prawn coctail, crabstick ... whatever you want it to be.
x x
xxxxx
xxx
x
;-)
Oh lordy EK that was horrible , I need a shower now.
Yuk
E-K, the Mills and Boon of Devon. Now we know why they are referred to as the South Hams.
I have nothing more to say. Ever. This is my last post. I am leaving. Goodbye....
I just couldn't help myself.
It kinda ... blurted out.
Verge - I read your comments, but not your own blog posts. Love to have you as a visitor, I'd like to repay the favour!
Jon M. You should have rolled your eyes and flicked your tongue over and over. Then if they asked what you were doing, you should have said...
"I'm a Karma-Chamelion"... ha ha ha ha ...
girls really aren't funny. I'm sorry
MoM did you just do what is known in the blogsphere as 'The Hitch Flounce' ????
Fatman - so, who was your schoolday nemesis and have you met them since?
I was bullied pretty much consistently for 3 years at school. At first they thought I was posh (this was a private school too!) Then they realised I lived in a flat and was from a single-parent family, so they beat on me for being poor. Then I came first in every single exam year after year, so they beat on me for being clever. Then I got really skinny so they beat on me for being ugly. But I never ever gave in.
I knew uni would be my making - I was right. I grew as a person, made millions of good friends - and actually grew 2 inches taller. Must have been the good Northern Diet! (And the northern men!)
Went back to school for a reunion and saw one of the bullies in the corner. by then I was an editor, taller, curvier and confident. I strode up to her. I was shocked - I was at least a foot taller than she was. It was weird. She actually cowered before me, I dunno what she thought I would say. I just decided to be magnanimous. Interestingly, since then, a lot of school friends have sought me out as a kind of "heroine", apparently a lot of them were bullied too but never dared to say anything, unlike the smart-alec ol' "stiff upper lip" me. I gave them courage apparently. Now I don't take shit from anyone.
Dunno why I said all that. I guess Electro-Kevin's earlier... um, gesture... has prompted a wave of self-revelation. Hm.
Beast - What's a Hitch Flounce?
I think the Hitch Flounce is when you pick up your ball(s?) and leave the park muttering (in your case, holster your stapler and quit the pool humming like a siren.)
MoM a hitch flounce is a dramatic 'Thats it I am never posting again.....EVER'
***** flounces out*****
and then you celebrate by posting
KEV
That was just cringe making.
If you want to know how to seduce a beautiful woman (or a sad cat owning spinster) just type
Swiss Toni into youtube and do the opposite of what he says.
off at a tangent I know the shop where they bought the characters clothes, its on Edgeware rd , its aimed at arabs, all black satin shirts , patent leather shoes and sparkly suits , there is a shop further along that is even better, they specialise in mohair safari suits and crocodile skin sandals.
Oh dea shock of recognition ...I am dreadful at fawning over celebs I know Minty from eastenders well i know someone who knows him and I treat him like an emissarry from the planet HUGE
"a hitch flounce is a dramatic 'Thats it I am never posting again.....EVER'
***** flounces out*****"
Hitch... flouncing... two words I never expected to hear in the same sentence... thank you all for clarifying that for me.
Hitch, good local knowledge of fancy fashion items... again, not the sort of thing I had associated with you, but I can now see why shiny, pretty, sparkly clothes may suit your flouncy nature...
Mermaid just imagine me at your door with belgian chocolates ,patent leather shoes , short sleeved safari suit , hair gelled down over my forehead and delicatley scented with a gallon of Kouros.
Admit it woman im your dream date.
I would then whisk you away for a Vindaloo and a few drinks.
If Im paying I expect a snog though.I am a bit of an oral hyegen fanatic so you will have to gargle with Listerine beforehand , dont wory I always bring my own and will only charge you for the amount that you use.
Hitch.
"you will have to gargle with Listerine beforehand , dont wory I always bring my own and will only charge you for the amount that you use."
I'm sure Electro-Kevin would never treat me in such a cavalier way!
Karma Chameleon, I liked that! I should have stopped trembling and said, I'm a calmer chameleon! Sorry.
And thats why you will never ache for him.
Hitch now heads out into the night.
x
Mermaid; I love your stories and they are very funny albeit a bit "fishy" Visit my new site and give me a good "tail" Lots of lovexx Mama Dixx
Trube, I had a look at your site and there was no comment icon to click.
You will be as unloved as a hitch in last saturday's underwear unless you give folk the chance to Have Their Say.
THE HITCH does not wear underwear. He goes commando.
So I have heard.
Trubes, the strangers are knocking at the door to your blog - click on the option to allow comments and we will be there with bells on!
x
mermaid
as the old saying goes
the pants havent been made yet that are up to the job.
NASA are working on it for me.
Perhaps NASA will polish your rocket for you at the same time, saving you the trouble, hitch.
Idle - Nasa have already made a film about it - "failure to launch".
OK Mermaid , more insults for the poor Hitch
One Of the few things I have discovered about women over the years is that when they take the piss out of a man it is for one of two reasons
1, They think that he is a twat
2, They want to shag him but lack self confidence.
I know you haven't seen me (yet) but give me a clue .
Mr Hitch , Its got to be number 2 , I suffer from the same thing all the time
My beauty is a curse
They all want me
***looks hunted***
I jave also just passed Chris Morris of Brass Eye fame in the street, I did stare and nudge my friend but I did not chase him or throw a Stabilo Bros stapler at his head.
PS - there is a third
3) Women are naturally just cruel and want to mock everyone else in the world
There is a fourth too
4) They think he is game for a laugh
Lilith - but what brought number 4 on though? is it because of 1, 2 or 3?
Now I know its the second one.
heheheeheh
Number 2 explains a hell of a lot of things in my life.
I thought it was that girls weren't attracted to me. Now I know they wanted to shag me all along ! Yippee !
I feel a romantic poem coming on ... want some, Mermaid ?
Well, number 4 comes out of number 2 I suppose. I can appreciate a man and/or his sexiness without wanting to shag him. Its not necessarily a lack of confidence that would stop me wanting to shag him, rather just a firm grip on reality that it would be less fun to do than to think about.
Electro-Kevin: "I feel a romantic poem coming on ... want some, Mermaid ?"
I'm good, thanks.
Yay ! I'm 80 - matey !
THAT was your romantic poem?
(rolls her glass eyes heavenwards and sighs).
Yeesh.
You're all only getting away with this because OLD TARF is on holiday. When he returns, it's the rubber hose for all of you.
Not as pathetic as you may think, Merms ! I had to wait all this time before I could say it. After all, it would have been no good declairing "Yay, I'm 80 - Matey!" at position 70 or 63. You would have thought me a total nutter - it would have been reeeally embarassing. I did think about doing it at 20 'cause it nearly rhymes - but I just bided my time like the cool doodey that I am and kept my credibility while all around were losing theirs.
All this talk of Number 2s is making me postpone my mug of tea and chocolate fingers.
We are getting our Puppy tomorrow! Hurrah!
I just bided my time like the cool doodey that I am and kept my credibility
... so what stopped you earlier on when you declared your undying love?
Idle - why not combine number 2s AND chocolate fingers? Unless you like toilet paper...
Lilith - I totally agree. For example, I think Brad Pitt is sexy but I would never really get heavily romantically involved (coy!) with him. Unless he proposed of course.
PUPPY!!!!!! Can't wait to see pictures of puppy!!! Maybe he and Monty can be facebook friends :)
Ouch ! That really hurt, Mermaid.
Wow, does Monty have a Facebook account? I think Pig's internet use will be strictly monitored and limited. It is all TERRIBLY exciting.
I still think you're hot E-K, if that helps.
Afterall, look what that Mutley gets up to. Can't have more blogging dogs...
It does help a lot, Lilith - you's a babe too ! xx
Lilith - he has indeed. We await pictures, y'hear you blogging goddess? Pictures!
ps... agree re Mutley - him and his hostess's 19 year old daughter - blogging legend.. .
Electro Kevin - "Ouch ! That really hurt, Mermaid."
Sorry EK. But 'we hurt the ones we love the most - it's a subtle form of compliment..'
a free cookie to the first person who can tell me which song that line is from.
You're just determined to get to 100 - I'd be stoopid to enter a competition contrived by you for such a purpose so my comment raised your .... D'oh !
I'm going to do another HITCH FLOUNCE!
Just for that, I'm going to do a NEW POST so I don't get to 100...
Lyrics quiz, merm:
Just a wild guess here, but Shakespear's Sister spring to mind.
Not to MY mind, obviously, as I seem to remember they were complete shite, but my pal google reckons the bard's sibling.
Double choc chip cookie with a hint of ginger and cinnamon, please.
Be a shame if you DID get to 100 wouldn't it MM ?
I mean, no one would like to see that, would they ???
Would they ???
I think you may be right Kev
Mmmmm No 99....Spoons. I love spoons...
Beat ya all. 100 !
Electro-Kevin's a hunk. He still hasn't paid any maintenance for his illigitimate son by me, little Johnny Rotten-Crotch. Concieved of a night of passion in a tent in Chew Magna near Bristol.
Bunch of mid-life crisisers.
what would I do without you?
have a good weekend - I'm off to commit some acts of utter vandalism. Byeee xxxx
On school: To be perfectly honest with you, I didn't have too much problems at school. Didn't sustain too many Chinese burns, wedgies, wet willies, or bruises because I'm a charming individual. Or just an odd fellow. Too dumb to be a nerd, too lazy to be a jock and I didn't qualify as the class clown. That honour went to the kid with ADD who now runs trivia nights in pubs.
On Women: I am naturally attracted to smartass women (i.e. chicks with moxie) since, deep down, I think I agree with option 2, They want to shag him . However, 18 restraining orders and a stun gun discharging a near-lethal amount of volts to my head have made me rethink that answer somewhat.
On reaching over 100 comments: Congrats. That's more comments on one posts than I have on my entire blog.
WAIT WAIT WAIT --
You know where Alan Rickman lives and have NOT invited me to come stalking? HOW is this Possible? HOW?
Sorry CAtty... yes, he's living with a politician in north london and her home "constituency" address is on her website... he he he...
I had a bag of those weird religious nuts outside St Paul's a few years ago. Mostly macadamias. Had no idea they had a patron saint.
Post a Comment