» Shit Claims to Fame II

I fisted a celebrity once
Granted, it was Gordon the Gopher, but I was only six (I came second in a Pizza Hut drawing competition, and got to meet Phillip Schofield too).

I was an extra/dancer in a Noisettes music video (the one they claimed featured genuine fans, which isn't true - all the 'fans' were cast from StarNow). The lead singer doesn't wear any underwear and is fine stripping naked to change in front of hundreds of people.

When I was a kid I chucked a beaker of Ribena over Oliver Reed. He was presenting a corporate video my dad was presenting, and came to my house to discuss it. My mum made him go into the garden to smoke, but the smoke woke me up and for some reason I instinctively grabbed my beaker and chucked the contents out of the window. He seemed to take it in good spirits but had already made his way through most of our good spirits, so..
(Sun 23rd Sep 2012, 15:35, More)

» Screwed over by The Man

Delurking to tell my one 'Hollywood' story
A few years ago I was homeless (abusive stepdad, left home, the usual), and at the time of this story I was living in an unheated bedsit, and as it was November I used to hang out in the library and a church youth centre quite a bit. One day I noticed signs saying they were holding an open call for movie extras that weekend. I toddled down and was duly cast to spend a week filming for a big British film by a famous Hollywood director. Exciting!

Less exciting at 5am when the coach supposed to pick us up didn't arrive. After about a dozen phone calls, we were told to take taxis and that they'd pay us when we got there. Even less exciting when we found there was no one to pay us back, and we'd be spending 12 hours wearing rags in driving snow and sleet, standing on top of narrow 12ft high walls.

As I got colder and hungrier (no food apart from a dry cheese bap for lunch), I got more and more pissed off, so when we finally wrapped and had to wait an hour to have our papers signed off by an assistant director, I was not in the best of moods to be told a) they were writing 6pm (when legal overtime kicked in) rather than the time we actually finished, and b) we were only getting £10 towards the cost of the taxis, not the whole thing. I kicked off and demanded the full cost from the assistant director, who eventually capitulated.

Result? Only when payment never arrived did I find out he'd lied that I'd never shown up, so not only did I not get paid for the two days (filming day plus costume fitting day) I'd worked, I was also left £20 out of pocket for the taxi.

**** ****** is getting punched in the fucking face if I ever see him again, best music video of all time or not.
(Thu 9th Aug 2012, 13:13, More)