0.15 seconds of fame
It was the summer of 1984, I was six years old, and my family lived in an idyllic little village in Suffolk. So idyllic in fact, that the BBC were in the process of making a short series about one of the local farmers.

The day of the village's summer fete dawned bright, and this year would be particularly exciting - there would be actual TV cameras there! Now this was a proper village fete - most of the village got involved in one way or another. They even had pig bowling - it was like the Industrial Revolution never happened.

I could barely wait for the fete to start, and as soon as my parents were ready to set off, I pelted off along the pavement towards the green as fast as my six-year-old legs would carry me. I was going to be on TV!

As the village green came in sight, I could see the cameras already set up, and put on an even greater burst of speed - failing to take into account a particularly treacherous stretch of path where a gravel drive overflowed onto the path. I went head over heels, rapidly acquiring a quite impressive selection of cuts and bruises, - in the process getting a lump of gravel actually embedded between the skin and my kneecap (still got the scar, in fact). My dad, ever practical, dug it out of my knee there and then with his penknife.

Unfortunately the cameras had caught the whole thing, and so the only time I've been on TV was aged six, covered in minor abrasions, and absolutely bawling my eyes out - though I was literally onscreen for less than a second.

Dad got a whole seven or eight seconds in the same episode, carrying a table.
(Photon wasting your time since, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 5:58, Reply)

University Challenge - and hearing Paxman swear
Yes - and I have the evidence:



Well, not of the swearing, but bear with me... that's me on the left, by the way, though I no longer have the blond highlights - that's a wholly different story.

After a quick trip over the Pennines from York to Granada Studios in Manchester, June 2000, the four of us were getting a bit peckish. So we made our way to the canteen. Just before we got there, we stumbled on another team - from Aberdeen, the ones we were about to face, although we didn't know it at the time. At the same time, Paxman turned up, somewhat flustered as his train was late. One of the other side collared him and (somewhat stupidly) told him what a crock of shit is book "The English" was - and then asked him to sign it. Paxo's reaction: a Vulcan-style raised eyebrow, followed by the immortal line "Fuck off!". This left our dimwitted friend proffering a pen to thin air, as Paxo left. We almost pissed ourselves.

We had our dinner and made our way to the Green Room. Not long afterwards, being a bit bored and wanting to have a bit of a wander, I opened the door. Trevor MacDonald was outside - which was a surprise.

It was soon time for the show to start. We were marched out to the new studio - the bowls-of-hell orange studio, so new it still had saw dust all over the place. Seriously, they could have hoovered the place...

The theme tune played - the audience went wild - too wild - and too loud. CUT!

The theme tune played - the audience went not especially wild - too not especially wild - and not loud enough. CUT!

Then, like Goldilocks' porridge, the audience was just right.

Paxo started with a few questions to warm us up and make sure all the equipment was working - it was the first time the new studio had been used. I answered - and got it wrong. And again - I had clearly left my brain behind. Crap.

So, the show started - and somehow my brain returned. I got the opening question right, not to mention a few more. To cut a long story short, we won the first round.

We retired, jubilant, to the Green Room, and got pissed. Eventually, after another team faced off, we had to go. We were chucked out into the Mancunian night - to be faced with a load of farm machinery. I began to wonder how much I had had. Turns out that the local ITV news had not reported farmers' protests at the time as "they were not militant enough". The farmers decided to show Granada how militant they were: by setting a muck spreader to blow right in front of the reception.

All in all, it was quite a day.

A little while later, a friend of mine and supporter of the team said that he found two stars of Coronation Street doing a line of coke when he went to the bogs that night. Shame there were no camera phones in 2000...
( Parmesan Quality b4 Quantity, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 1:23, 5 replies)

Encroaching on a Holly and Jessica Vox Pop section for Anglia News.
Ronseal really.
Few years ago, when I was younger and decidedly less sensitive to tragedy, me and my sister kept loitering in shot whilst a camera crew talked to members of the public about how the Holly and Jessica murders had affected how safe they think kids and/or schools are.

We didn't see ourselves on the local news that night, nor did we ever.
(chrisdood Why yes, I am the shizzle, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 1:03, Reply)

Hollyoaks Spot of Bother
My mate and me were extras on hollyoaks a few years back (someone asked us if we'd like to do it, and we said yes). In one scene they asked us to walk down the street towards where the real actors were, miming a conversation. We thought it would look more realistic if we whispered to each other, so at the shout of 'action' we set off. Our whispered conversation concerned, as far as I can remember, which one of the actresses we would like to do up the arse. We got about halfway down the street, past gnosh and almost to the post office(?), when the director instructed us all to "cut and reset", adding "And can you 2 guys just whisper to each other, we're picking you up on the mics". Whoops. We were not asked back.

We were also extras on corrie but our scene got cut. My mam was dead disappointed.
( kfk I get all my everything right here, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 0:58, Reply)

Whilst in my mid-teens
I'm ashamed to say that I did indeed feature live on the Big Breakfast, doing a chicken impression, on a stage on Bournemouth beach, in front of a medium-sized crowd.

What's worse is that my Mum was with me and it was her who coerced me into it.

Yes, I looked ridiculous and now eagerly await the extinction of VHS equipment, so I can feel completely safe in the knowledge that the footage will never be seen again
( Mrs Trouser is probably annoying Dave just by being here on, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 0:40, 1 reply)

THAT'S SHOWBIZ DAHLING!
I used to be on TV in my halcyon youth. I worked for BBC Wales in Cardiff as a jobbing actor and was in a few of the earlier Eccleston Dr. Who episodes as minor characters.

Also, I was a character in a television movie called 'Hearts of Gold', which starred David Warner and some old theatre dame that played that English surgeons mother in ER. It also had the lovely gayer Jeremy Sheffield from Holby City.

David Warner gave me a cigar to smoke, and I taught him how to body pop. SHOWBIZ!
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 0:16, Reply)

Impersonating a woman
This could have gone in the Festivals question if I'd gotten there quick enough. My mum's sister Valerie was supposed to be going to Glastonbury last year, but in the end she couldn't make it, and asked if I wanted her ticket.

I jumped at the chance. Massive Attack, Jay-Z, Leonard Cohen, Jimmy Cliff, Seasick Steve? Fuck yeah. However, if you've been to Glastonbury in the last couple of years, you'll realise the problem I had at this point.

Photo ID.

Each ticket now has a photo of yourself on it. You can't really substitute tickets between people, to stop touting. And it's unfortunately very effective. So to get into the festival, I was going to have to pose as a 48-year-old woman. But I fucking well did it. It's a good thing I have lovely legs, am a hairless wonder with a surprisingly androgynous face and am fairly short (some people might say I was destined for a moment like this). Doing the classic Moss-chic thing of wellies, a miniskirt (yes, obviously borrowed from a friend) and a hoodie, the family likeness got me past the initial ticket checks, got my wristband and festival bags, and in!

Upon which I was immediately confronted by a BBC TV crew.

"Hi, we're doing some interviews for our coverage this year - what's your name?"

No "do you mind doing an interview". Bastards. I was still in earshot of the security, who were looking on in amusement. Oh crap. Okay, high voice but not too high....

"Valerie!"
"Hi Valerie! Is this your first Glastonbury?"
"Er... no!"
(at this point I realised I was speaking in a Scottish accent. Oh well, too late, plough on)
"So how many have you been to then?"
"...four!"
"Oh wow, a bit of a veteran then! So what's been your best Glastonbury moment?"
"...Radiohead!"
"And the worst?"
"...rain last year!"
"...okay, well thanks Valerie! Have a good festival!"

I'd gotten away with it, thanks to my lilting, breathy Scottish accent (I was almost turning myself on by the end of it) and my monosyllabic answers. But by the end, I was truly able to say that...

...I've been Auntie V.
(cypherspace is not a toaster, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 23:46, 12 replies)

My sister,,,,
... is in that Badly Drawn Boy video where he's busking in the street.
She walks past him.

She doesn't know, cos I've always forgotten to tell her.
(inflateable, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 23:33, Reply)

Awkward Boner
Some local telly reporter was doing a story on school buses unknown to me as my bus arrived through the school gates.

I was 14 at the time and it seemed quite hormonal, the bus rides would give me a boner. Maybe it was a mix of vibrations from the rickety bus and being so close to those lovely catholic schoolgirls.

It was a challenge getting out of my seat to leave and not have my erect cock noticed. I would carefully use my jacket or bag to cover the offending organ. I would usually have to wait till everyone got off and then disembark.

This fateful day I moped off the bus trying to look as inconspicous as possible only to find a cameraman point his camera at the doors of the bus.

I got nervous and stood on my jacket sleeve which then got pulled out of my hand. The cameraman glanced away from the camera to view my trouser tent with both his eyes in it's full adolescent glory.

I don't if it made the final cut.
( charrudeboy, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 22:25, Reply)

Shite telly
I know I was on a community tv station once, praising a local neighbourhood watch scheme for their entry in the Britain In Bloom competition (I have a weird job). Mercifully I never saw it andneither did anyone else.
(Just a girl., Fri 12 Jun 2009, 22:12, Reply)

The Surface Of The Moon
In 2003, I joined the gaggle of 135 candidates (including Arnold Schwarzenegger) running for Governor of California. Eighty 'alternative' candidates (as we fancied ourselves) held a big meeting on the aircraft carrier USS Hornet, docked at Oakland. After the exhilirating confab - a testament to the power of participatory democracy - we came down the gangplank to meet the press.

I noticed Fox TV-2's wide-angle-lens camera slowly panning across my face. That evening, a laughing friend from Palo Alto called to tell me what he had seen on TV.

In adolescence, I had had a rough encounter with acne. Like a satellite orbiting the moon, the camera gave the TV-news audience of the entire San Francisco Bay area a detailed investigation of the cratered surface, with eerie music playing in the background.

This, my friends, was uncalled for.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 21:41, Reply)

15 to 1
My school entered and won the first, and only, 15 to 1 schools programme.

I wasn't the guy who bossed the last round, I was the fool in the "cool" Bart Simpson tie who didn't know anything about the Royal Family. Cock!
(Her Ghost zomegle.com, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 20:48, Reply)

fameseeker
When a child, I had a hankering to be famous. After my debut on TV as David Wilkie opened our junior school pool* (they edited out his phrase on getting out of the pool "It's ***** cold in there!") I yearned to get on TV again with repeated submissions to Jimll Fixit (yes I thought that was his name) and Tony Hart's Gallery.

Nearest I came was having an idea from a garland made from folded bits of paper on the wittily entitled "Why don't you... (switch off the television set and go and do something less boring instead)?". I remember my whole class watched the TV to see my credit appear at the bottom of the screen. That just shows how dull life was in Bishops Waltham.

Then we moved from Bishops Waltham to the much more exciting Romsey where camera crews from Southampton would regularly visit to film Inspector Wexford. One could bump into the likes of George Baker, Lawrie McMenemy, Esther Rantzen and Leslie Thomas at fetes, in the pub or down the cafe. I always used to try to walk "casually" into shot but only once managed it - in a local news report on a Victorian Fayre, wearing my full length Laura Ashley dress. Success!

I doubt if that will make youtube though :)

*Probably also Amanda Holden's TV debut as she was at the same school. Can't say that I remember her though.
(biscuitsocks random gene expression, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 19:23, Reply)

I've been on the radio, does that kind of count?
I was doing a work experience day at Rock FM.
I did all the usual vox pop things where I went out with a mic and interviewed people to get some soundbites for that days story. Tried my hand at recording the news but they didn't use that because I wasn't really using my 'BBC voice' given that the woman who forced it on me was a patronising cow who just wanted to have something to pick at in a bored 10 minutes. Wrote some print for later news updates. Generally had a nice day learning about all the backstage going ons :)

At one point early in the day though I was having a tour and they took me into the studio, we were creeping and generally being very quiet as the DJ was live on air chatting away about their current segment 'Being dumped'.
Not too content to let us wander unacknowledged I suddenly heard him say
"We have Jessie around the studios with us today, have you ever been dumped Jessie?"
Being the other side of the room to him, and put unexpectedly on the spot, I sort of half shouted (wittily)
"NO"

"...ahhh, lucky one hey" he quipped, and went to move on

"No" I shouted again "I always get there first!"

When I got home, the boyfriend was not best impressed.
( Jessie © needs pirate name suggestions, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 18:02, 2 replies)

I was 'unwitting baby victim of terrorists in crowd'
There was a documentary on television about 10 years ago that discussed a bombing of a shopping centre that happened about 15 years before that.

Wanting to be authentic they nabbed some generic CCTV footage of shoppers from round about that time to use, and there I was! being pushed around in my pram by a (I can only presume) unconcious-of-the-tragedy-about-to-befall-us-all mummy, staring into a nearby shop window.

The highlight had to be when they later superimposed some terribly (un)realistic flames onto the same footage, just to emphasise their point.
I burned beautifully, even if I do say so myself.

So realistic was my unwitting performance that apparently my grandma even called that night to make sure we were okay.
Despite the bad photoshopping.
And the fact the documentary was about something that happened 15 years before. And we were both 10 years younger in the film.

And she'd seen us that afternoon.
( Jessie © needs pirate name suggestions, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 17:44, Reply)

My boobs opened the show
A long time ago the dance aerobics group I was in was asked to appear on a late night entertainment show.
This used to go out live so parents were going to record it for me.
Joan Collins and one of the blokes from the Likely Lads were 2 people I remember being interviewed.
So anyway we were all given T shirts with the name of the show on it.
Being camera shy and a well endowed teen I positioned myself at the back of the group.
But the producer insisted I stand right out front.
We were to open the show so had to stand still as they started filming, then cue theme music we start dancing.
Ends, applause, we are ushered off backstage and watch the rest of the filming.
Next day I get to see the video.
It opens with the name of the show on a strangely curved surface.
Which then starts to jiggle around in time to the music.
Camera slowly pans back to reveal its my chest promoting the name of the show.
It seemed like it was ages before we are all in view.
I had no idea they were going to do that.
It took forever for the shouts of I saw your tits on TV to die down
(insomniac-surfer oh go on then, just this once, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 17:30, 9 replies)

Halloween 07

Now halloween is a very big event where im from in Ireland
so everyone i kno dressed up accordingly
i myself deciding to be a mime :)

So went to a mates first and decided it would be good to drink a litre of vodka in about 20 mins then take to the streets!

swaggering around town we eventually made it to our destination, most of the journey still a blank spot to this day

but i decided to sit outside for a bit, fell face first into the ground and broke my nose and was K.O
got carried from the spot by my mates alll the way through town to an ambulance and got carted off, parents got me at the hosiptal and went back home to recover

thinking this was the end of my pain we were all happily sitting watching Northern Ireland bbc newsline where up pops my bloody, half covered in make up, barely alive face getting dragged through town when the story about underage drinking on halloween comes on.

que the phone ringing off the hook with many cheers from friends and a shame i dont think i will ever be able to live down

funniest think that has ever happened to me tho!
(Paddymc2007, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 17:29, 1 reply)

Not me..
But a few friends happened to be near the MTV building when MTV Live with Donna Air was on.
After hastily constructing signs saying: "Donna Air-Head," and: "Insert Brain Here" with a nicely placed arrow they got on the mobile phones to another friend viewing at home.
Each time she came on up went the signs - much to the amusement of everyone.
It wasn't long before someone tipped of Ms Air who looked suitably embarrassed and upset which really just encouraged my friends.
As they were standing on the street there was nothing MTV could do either.
Shortly after that however, they stopped filming in front of the street.
Not really TV stardom, but amusing nonetheless.
(henrya1, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 17:27, 1 reply)

Weldin'
I went to an all-girls grammar school known for its ‘if boys can do it, then us gels can do it too, by gum!’ attitude. Whenever a newspaper was running a story on ‘gels doing frightfully well at all that learning malarkey, gawd love’m’, a photographer would usually be dispatched to our school pronto to do some shots of us typical school lasses BEHAVING COMPLETELY NORMALLY doing NORMAL THINGS GELS DO AT SCHOOL. Therefore, over the years, my schoolmates appeared in various broadsheets fiercely frowning in concentration at maths equations on blackboards, fiercely frowning in concentration at test tubes, fiercely frowning in concentration as they kicked a football, etc.

One day, my time had come. I was told that a photographer from the Independent was coming to take some snaps at our school, and wanted some shots of a girl doing some welding in the Technology department. ‘Just pretend that you weld all the time, and that it’s completely normal, my teachers said. ‘Get in!’ I thought, ‘I’ve never welded before – I bet it’s a right laugh!’

So the photographer gets in, stinking of last night’s beer as all photojournalists do, tells us he’s got ten minutes, and then points the camera at me expectantly. My teachers are waiting in the wings, and they spring out, jam the visor over my head, light the blowtorch, shove it into my hand, and then hold a piece of metal near the flame. Snap! goes the camera. ‘That’s fine’ the photographer says, and then he sods off back to London.

My parents are Telegraph readers (hardcore Tories, the both of them – the shame!) but every day for two bloody weeks they buy the Independent (for those not in the know, a newspaper made entirely out of woven organic wholewheat and GM-free ‘concern’), in a massive case of political affiliation treachery, until there – on the front page no less – is a little thumbnail of me, fiercely frowning from what you could see of my face behind the visor, welding. The story (about whether girls should be educated the same as boys) was in the Education supplement inside.

I bet you’re wondering what this has to do with being on telly? Well on breakfast TV that May morning they were doing a run-down of the main stories in the papers, and if memory serves me correctly the newsreader held up the front page of the Independent to discuss Ian Paisley’s denouncement of the Bloody Sunday inquiry as "a witch hunt of Protestants". So there I was! On telly!! A little thumbnail of me being held steadily at the BBC camera. Next to Ian Paisley.

I wished with all my might that somehow a TV crew or cameraman would take a picture of me whilst I was watching that bit of the news, with that little picture of me on the screen. And then someone would take a picture of me looking at that, and then take another picture of me looking at that…
(Wheezy Luv-ah is pootling about on, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 17:18, 1 reply)

The Mint
Kat Shoob. Midnight goddess to many students but a few years ago. Shoddy ambiguous questions and nutters who ring up with shoddier answers; it could only be ITV gameshow The Mint.

After a devestating night out on the town, with much alcohol consumed, I'm back in my room (having not pulled a bird) at 2am with not much to do. My friend, Ash, is in the other room (having pulled a bird) having his usual "get to know each other" chat, with the plan to have her moist within the hour.

Fuck this, I thought. He's not getting his large penis away while I sit here on the bed with a glass to the wall, hoping to catch the notes of a woman orgasming on the night air, hand awkwardly down my pants. So I sent in an email to the Mint. With a drunken picture of Ash attached, with a note declaring his interest in the buxom blonde presenter, Miss Shoob.

Little did I know, he had his TV on while serenading his new woman, so I heard roars of laughter from the female as he ran out of his room, banging on my door shouting "YOU LITTLE SHIT OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR" in a drunken stupour, thinking his chances had been ruined. Brilliant. Video of the appearance is below...

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScC4nzIs_go

Turns out, incidentally, that he got a blowjob after he calmed down...Bastard.

P.S. "My Main Package Sunny" is some fat slag we knew, just wanted her to get merked on live TV
(peakofphysicalfitness, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 17:07, 1 reply)

GREAT LITTLE ESCAPES on ITV West
Me talking about sheds with a hangover on ITV west - I am Welsh but they said I was from the West Country (I like Cider but that's about it

But they did call me International shed expert which was nice.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2UAfHOKE58
( unclewilco, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 16:27, Reply)

This is the newwwwwwwwws
At primary school we won a local school play competition - the Police came a made a 'professional' film of it.

Anyway, Meridian news (or whatever they were called in 1991) came to film us in class and interview some of us (not me!). The piece would end with us all running out of class past a camera and waving - that was going to be my moment. Unfortunately, I went out of the wrong door of the classroom, and was the only person in the class NOT to be on the telly.
(jimmy_stavros, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 16:18, Reply)

Fever Pitch
My old games teacher Mr Raines was a ref in Fever Pitch somewhere - I think theres a bit with a kids match going on - I think he's the ref in that with some of his school kids. Not very exciting now I have written it down.
(jimmy_stavros, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 16:11, 1 reply)

The Weather Channel (US)
Some years ago I decided it was time to do something a little different, so I booked to go on a Tornado chasing tour round the mid west.

We were followed around by a film crew for the first two weeks & I was interviewed a couple of times as "Gee Y'all come from England"...

Never saw the footage, I believe it was on some station in Jefferson City in 2001ish...
( Jonoton, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 16:02, Reply)

I was in the background...
of Minder recently.
(iamgoingtohell, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 15:46, Reply)

Post Office Tram and Russ Abbot.
I was on Granada Reports in the 80's or whatever it was called. The post office had painted a tram red in Blackpool.

We were filmed getting on it. And I waved at the camera. Thats it.

I also told Russ Abbott to fuck off as he was filming outside my local. The unfunny prick.
(hoogie Original Cunt Horse Author, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 15:41, Reply)

Fifteen to One
At the tender age of 21, I appeared on the now-extinct Channel 4 quiz show Fifteen to One.

I got to the third round! This was due in part to my encyclopedic knowledge of pointless trivia, and partly because the fourteen other pensioners were too blind and/or deaf to notice me, and never nominated me.

I didn't win though. My knowledge never stretched to knowing what the key component of a gallstone was.

Also, William G Stewart looks very weird close up.
(Straightbane is useful! I'm having a wonderful time!, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 15:40, 2 replies)

Cutting the ribbon in the winnebago of dreams
The only time I have ever been on the television (and been aware of it) is a tale of woe my friends. As it’s a Friday, I’ll regale you all, well, those of you that care to read this anyway.

Cast you minds back to 1990 when a painting by Vincent van Gogh sold for a record $82.5 million, the pilot episode of Seinfeld premiered, Madonna's "Justify My Love" music video was banned by MTV and there was a 6 year old me - A small, blonde, excitable ball of giggles who wanted nothing more than to spend everyday running around with my arms outstretched pretending to be a plane (I will admit, not much has changed).

It was a horrible overcast day when the most a-ma-zing piece of news was given in our school assembly. Looking up at our headmaster we were all filled with glee as he informed us that the new by-pass was going to be opened in a few weeks time. Now I’d like to point out at this moment that none of us gave a crap about the by-pass in the slightest, what we had concerned ourselves with was the television crew that would be filming the opening ceremony - one lucky kid in my year would get the chance to help cut the ribbon to officially open the road. DID I MENTION WE WOULD GET TO BE ON TV!

The tension in the hall was palpable as we all held our breath to find out how we could win such an exceptional prize. Turns out all we needed to do was be good. For a fortnight. Mwah ha haaa, I was in. I was already ‘the nice quiet one’ so all I had to do was keep my head down for two weeks, help out, be nice and the prize would be all mine!!

Skip forward a week and a half and I had pushed my way to the top of the list. I’d cleaned out the hamsters, I’d cleaned up the paint pots, my desk and drawer were gleaming, my handwriting was even neater, and everyone had noticed. I was in, I was there, I was teh winnah, right? Wrong.

What I hadn’t gambled on was that two days before the end of the competition one of the stupid girls in my class would shut her hand in a door. Now up until this point I was winning, my little name barley visible on my sheet due to the sheer amount of gold stars I have acquired. However this did not matter to my teacher, the other girl was a trooper, she cut a few fingers and still came to school, so all my hard work went out the window and I lost out to a bloody moron who didn’t know how to shut a door without removing her fingers first. *insert sad face here*

You might be wondering at this point how I actually managed to get myself on the telly if I didn’t end up winning the competition. If you’re not wondering that, I’m going to tell you anyway.

On the day of the ‘ribbon cutting ceremony’ my entire year got dragged out to a muddy stretch of road and huddled together in the pissing rain to witness my stupid classmate all warm and cosy in what can only be described as a WINNEBAGO OF DREAMS smugly cutting a ribbon, (which she couldn’t even cut that well because of the massive bandage on her stupid fingers).

After the ceremony the camera crew decided to pan across the crowd to show our cheering faces. Oh how I wish I had a copy of that film as I was slap-bang in the middle of the crowd with my arms folded with a proper little face on trying not to cry.

Apologies for the length, but you can’t put a word count on childhood pain and anguish.

Well you can but meh.
(Flim-Flam the Magnificent "You is talking loco and I like it!", Fri 12 Jun 2009, 15:36, 1 reply)

Lets! Play! Darts!
Got on the Beeb due to coverage of the BDO World Darts Championships, waving various items -
Inflatable sheep (predictable)
The backing of a roasted peanut serving card (bikini-goodness)
Handwritten signs. They even go so far as to provide markers now. 2 that stick out were "I'm the 10 stone Andy Fordham lost" and "Scott Mills loves Pecker".
There is a price to pay. If your table is in line with the cameras, then there's a Dutch lady, I believe to be a deaf mute who will come and sit on your (already cramped) table, bedecked in sequins. Keep your eyes peeled for her, she has been known to pop up on other random sports events too.
(meggles, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 15:23, Reply)

BB
I was on Big Brother.

But I'm not saying who, or which season.

I'm not even going to say if this is true or not.

I shall leave you with an EffinDoubt.

Hugs & Stuff!
(EffinDoubt is breaking glass on, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 15:20, 4 replies)