» Celebrities part II

I got stoned with Graham Chapman
Appropriate really, with the Python's 40th anniversary an' all. My very best mate's uncle was the late Graham Chapman. I met him a few times but this was undoubtedly the best. It was 1984. He was guest of honour at a small restaurant party to celebrate my mate's 21st Birthday. After it all finished were going back to his Mum & Dad's place but as Graham had driven straight there from London he didn't know the way. "I'll navigate!" I practically screamed. Another mate also blagged a seat too & 10 minutes later there we were being driven through the Northamptonshire countryside by Graham Chapman in his Aston Martin. I took out all the bits to begin skinning up & he reached over & opened the glove compartment. "Easier on there, I think" he said. Perfect - a lovely little walnut table with an inlaid mirror. (It would have been perfect for a different kind of narcotic, shame we didn't have any. I think Aston really knew their market in those days!) Not only that but he produced a ready rolled spliff from his pocket & invited me to spark it up while I was rolling. I was happier than a pig in shit. Getting stoned with one of my all-time heroes in an Aston Martin.

Sadly, of course, only five & a half years later the man was dead. So it goes...

No beans to spill really, just a really nice memory of a really nice man.
(Thu 8th Oct 2009, 14:58, More)

» Karma

Genuine Hindu Karma
Kanniyakumari, Jan 2006: the Lands End of Southern India, meeting point of the Bay of Bengal, Indian Ocean & Arabian Sea. (Check it out here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kanyakumari_%28town%29)

I was with my late wife Sue (yes, it's me again, & I still haven't got my tee-shirt, Chizz!)

We were staying in Kerela & had taken a train down there for the day. There are two tiny islands, one with a memorial to a Hindu Guru, the other has a temple. You can get a ferry round trip to visit them, which we did. Got to first island after interminable queueing for the boat & disembarked to explore the temple. Beautiful place, we really liked it but time was getting on & we wanted to make sure that we could get the train back to our lovely 5* hotel. Problem here: we didn't know when the last train left - we'd been told 6pm, 9pm, 5.30pm, etc, no-one seemed to know (any veteran of India will be familiar with this).

I was starting to fret big time & realised we didn't have time to go to the second island. Sue thought differently & we argued whilst standing in the next ferry queue. This culminated with me spluttering, "But we have a lovely hotel to go back to, I don't want to get stranded in THIS FUCKING PLACE!" The tall, well-dressed Indian gentleman with his family in front of us turned round & asked me, in perfect clipped English, where I was from. "Er, London" I said, sheepishly. "Oh, I thought so" he sneered before turning his back on me. I felt about two inches high.

So we boarded the ferry & in my state of extreme stress & anxiety I decided to stand by the open door, fearing an impending disaster (you read about it in the papers - 200 pilgrims drowned in Indian ferry horror, etc). Got to the next island but stayed on board to go straight back to the mainland. On the way back we were going sideways to the waves which were crashing against the side, covering us with spray. Then one huge wave hit & covered us. Me, being stood right by the open door got totally soaked. Cue much hilarity from rest of passengers, laughing hysterically & pointing at me. Someone grabbed my camera & took a pic of me totally drenched. (here: pic)

We landed & traipsed our way back to the station - about a mile walk with me dripping a trail of water all the way. Every so often we'd pass a family of pilgrims who would point at me and fall about laughing. Word had obviously got round the whole town in about 10 minutes & they were overjoyed at the comeuppance of a stupid Westerner who had had the temerity to swear whilst standing on one of the most sacred Hindu places in the world & think he'd get away with it.

True story, true Karma.

yes, yes, length, width, etc...
(Sat 23rd Feb 2008, 12:17, More)

» The worst sex I ever had

I had a few months
in the 1980's where I was a toy-boy. She was 33, divorced & rich - I was 23, a student & skint. It was brilliant. She bought me clothes, records, drinks, drugs, dinner in restaurants, etc. All I had to do was shag her. And I did. Lots. (NB: The financial incentive was just a boon - she was gorgeous & I fancied her no end.)

My finest moment was her Chiropractor banning me for 2 months because I'd dislocated her pelvis during a fairly typically vigorous session. I was good in them days...

Then on my 24th Birthday she gave me a blowjob to remember - fantastic, if a bit violent. She bit a great lump out of my foreskin. It bled. It hurt. Then two days later it came up in a nasty rash. I slunked off to the clap clinic where I was diagnosed as having Herpes. She had a cold sore when she was gobbling me & it had infected the wound.

I'll never forget you, Jumpin' Jenny! Nor can I. You gave me the ultimate gift that just keeps on giving... for my Birthday...

Chizz!
(Mon 18th Jun 2007, 13:13, More)

» Mini Cabs From Hell

Taxi Revenge
I remember a mate telling me about a Revenge Kit which included a very official looking sticker to be surreptitiously placed in the back of black cabs (when they've annoyed you, natch).

It says: "It is illegal to tip the driver" in 9 different languages.

(He! He!)
(Thu 27th May 2004, 17:30, More)

» Celebrities part II

I sabotaged The Sweet
Summer 1988 & I'd just completed my first year at the then Polytechnic of North London. Brian Connolly's New Sweet were playing a gig there as part of his nostalgia cash-in & I'd dragged a mate along to see it. They were shite. The hall is now The Rocket & a reasonably good venue but then it was just the Poly's crap theatre. The mixing desk was on a couple of tables at the back of the hall next to where we were standing. After a few pints we were feeling bored & ripped off when we noticed a single extension lead coming from the back of the hall to the mixing desk table. A strip was plugged into it with various plugs going off to the sound equipment. So I sidled up behind the fat git doing the 'sound' & very quickly unplugged the extension. The effect was dramatic - the sound completely died except for the banging of the drums at the back of the stage. It took them 15 minutes to suss what had happened while fat, florrid Brian looked on enraged from the stage. (Shame he didn't hissy & storm off.)

Purile, yes, but we were very pleased with ourselves. Served them right, they were crap.
(Thu 8th Oct 2009, 14:33, More)