BECK
is a scientologist. I mean fucking hell. I didn't have many heroes in the first place...
(bloodyHassocks, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:58, Reply)

The legend that almost never was....
...My Dad was driving through Stratford one day and, with two kids argueing in the back of the car, his attention wasn't on the road.He car screeched to a halt and almost hit the blonde bloke walking across the road..
"Fucking wanker",shouted the guy,shaking his fist.
My Dad drove off quickly,but not before looking in his mirror and exclaiming"It's Bobby,Bobby Moore!!"....
(chuffster, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:52, Reply)

Streams of Whiskey
I also met Shane MacGowan in an Irish pub in Boston. He appeared sober and drug free.

Talk about fucking disappointed. I went home and burnt all my Pogues albums in disgust.
(DrTugnut, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:44, Reply)

The first single my brother ever bought...
...was Keith Harris and Orvil. We used to like them, many moons ago. Then I did a gig with him at Swansea University's summer ball and it ruined it.

He turned up in his merc with a personalised number plate (ORV 1L, in case you want to run him off the road at some point) and was a nightmare. Here he is, being filmed for a C4 documentary ("the rise and fall of celebrity - the fall"), getting paid loads while I'm just getting a free ticket, and what's the first thing he asks? Cup of tea. Right. So I go off and *buy* him a cup of tea. The tight bugger.

That duck's eyes stare right through you when he's not got his hands up it. The monkey's OK though.

I introduce him, he comes on, I toddle off to watch him near the stage. As I'm standing there some cute, but very short, girl stands next to me. "Is that Keith Harris?" she says.

I was having a bad night.

"Yes, course it it. Fuck's sake..."

I turn around. It's the one out of Hear'Say who isn't Mylene or the blonde one. Looking somewhat offended.

Dave Gorman: nicest man in comedy. Ross Noble: close second. Norman Lovett: great bloke. Lucy Porter: will always be in love with her. Likewise Nina Conti. Barrat and Fielding (the Boosh)? Thoroughly nice people.

Yeah, bragging like a bad bitch.
(Fat Bear is adjusting your breasts on, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:34, Reply)

Not really mine, but I contributed
My brother once sent me a text from the airport, saying Mick Lally (actor who played Miley on the long-running irish soap "Glenroe") was on the same flight as him.

My reply was the funniest thing I've ever texted: "Well holy God." I dared my brother to say it to him.

It's funny if your parents made you watch that soap for five years.
( Spunk Murphy Tchaikovsky is a synonym for fanny, apparently, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:34, Reply)

Nicole Kidman
Top looking bird on the telly, but when I saw her she looked like Bet Lynch and had skin like corned beef.

I wouldnt have given her one using yours.
(DrTugnut, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:31, Reply)

More of an anti-hero really
Ginger tool Chris Evans came into a pub I used to regularly drink in, in Soho once with that fat twat Danny Baker, in one of his jolly japery sort of moods and offered to but the whole pub a drink.

Not one person took him up on the offer.

The expression on his face was priceless.
(Gomi No Sensei, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:28, Reply)

Darth Vader
I remember as a small child meeting the green cross code man and his little robot (going back some years here).

Imagine to my shock and horror about 5 years later that said Green cross Code man was the ruler of the Galactic empire and the killer of Obi Wan Kenobi himself.

(I am talking about David Prowse by the way)
(Wook13 Been away but is now ducking a fuck on, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:28, Reply)

Jimmy Saville...
Met him at Stoke Mandeville Hospital (National Spinal Injuries Center) when I was seeking his help for a charity fund raiser.
Nicest bloke - even if I did have to jog with him while we talked.
Swore like a trooper, but came across as a very genuine guy and vey passionate about his charity work - and almost paranoid about his public image.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:27, Reply)

Velvet Underpants
Years ago Lou Reed tried to punch me.

As a massive fan I asked him if I could have a picture with him and he said 'Why the fuck can't I ever be left alone and not be bothered by fucking assholes?'
I apologised and said 'my mistake, I thought you were John Cale not the over rated Jewish cunt who can't sing.'

He is still a God in my eyes.
(DrTugnut, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:26, Reply)

Diana Ross...
I met her at Gullivers in Down St, Mayfair where a friend was the resident DJ. Lovely woman, but it felt that I was actually talking to a gay man or perhaps a transvestite.
Didn't do the uncool by asking for an autograph or photo either.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:06, Reply)

Emily Bruce-Dickinson,
...were you on the drug that killed River Phoenix at the time?


I did meet Holly Valance once who turned out to be the most up her own arse person I've ever met in my entire life. Not really one of my heroes admittedly, but I used to think about her alot.


For about ten minutes. Everyday. In the bathroom
(Gomi No Sensei, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:06, Reply)

Shaun Ryder - mashed
My town's local nightclub, The Pink Toothbrush in Rayleigh, held a 'Madchester' night, playing songs by all the shoe gazing baggy bands. Shaun Ryder was invited as a guest DJ. We were all very excited.

He turned up late. His record collection consisted of 2 or 3 CD's that you get free from The Mail on Sunday. His record bag was a Tesco's carrier. It sounds like i've made this up but I haven't.

He spent all night shouting drunkenly into the microphone and ordering people to get him pills.

Still a good night though.
(moonat8, Fri 26 May 2006, 16:03, Reply)

The Splendid Oaf...
..see page 7 for my sad tale.

Steve the Monkey - don't bother mate & I seriously doubt you have a fat one, you fecking eunuch.
(Fonkadelix is fucking bored, pass the crack pipe Mavis., Fri 26 May 2006, 15:56, Reply)

Not my expreience, but......
My sister is a violinist who lived in London for many years, getting work as a backing violinist in some quartet or another for big-time musicians such as Vanessa Mae, Robbie Williams, and Oasis. (She's the violinst in the Oasis video 'Don't Go Away', who appears right at the beginning and right at the end...and in a few bits in between).

Sounds great? Maybe. But a lot of musicians who get these jobs know better.
A friend of her's who was a keyboardist or something (i forget) was supposed to be accompanying 'the artist formerly known as prince' on tour in Britain and Europe. She had a disabled child who she would need to bring with her, and because she knew that children were allowed on the tour in cases of single parents, she didn't think there would be any problem.

When 'the artist' was informed, however, that one of the musicians needed to bring her disabled kid with her for the tour, he apparently said, "We don't want it!"....and that was her struck off from the tour.

As for my sister's experience...i went along to see her play at a Vanessa Mae concert in Glasgow. My sister took me backstage to the green room where I met Ms. Mae, who was a total airhead, giggling her arse off and making vapid, unfunny 'jokes' about the appearance of the various backing musicians. There were other people that she totally ignored 100% of the time.

My sister also told me that she mimed her way through 50% of every concert. (How you mime on a violin, i don't know, but she managed it).

At the end of the concert, she had to ask the electric guitarist the names of the people in the string section so that she could get a round of applause for them. She'd been touring with them for months, and didn't have a clue what their names were. How big of her.

On the plus side, my sister stuck a whoopie cushion under Vanessa's arse during a soundcheck, which promted everyone except Vanessa to piss themselves laughing. She herself was not amused at all.

Must've been the only highlight for the rest of the entourage on that whole tour.
(you_always_felt_like_suede, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:48, Reply)

Not so young ones
I once contracted Rik Mayall (the man, not the condition) to do some radio ads. I turned up at the studios expecting him to be a bit of a luvvie wanker and all self important. In retrospect there was no reason to expect that other than I really really wanted him not be and didn't want to be let down.

Mr Mayall, I salute you Sir! He was the funniest, most down to earth friendly helpful bloke you could ever meet. Spent an hour crying with laughter as he did take after take to get it perfect, all the while making sure that I was completely happy. I still have the version where he called all of our customers cunts and lepers. What a top top man.

Ironically I once lived quite near Adrian Edmondson, and he really is a cunt.

It's not long, but is wide.
(Hampton St.Roker (has probably had your mum), Fri 26 May 2006, 15:47, Reply)

Kiss This, Bitch.
Fonkadelix: I read the question as "Never Meet Your Heroes. Discuss".

No more heroes any more.

In which case, we have to talk about celebs, and whether or not it was a good idea to meet them, or whether they did, in fact, disappoint.

Kiss my fat one.
(Steve The Monkey, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:47, Reply)

fair point but...
1. who really has a 'hero'

2. Chances of ever meeting them are...

3. Chances of them pissing on your dreams are...

...negligible
(dukefukem, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:47, Reply)

Fonkadelix...
Well come on then, who have you met that pissed on your chin?
(The Splendid Oaf, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:45, Reply)

Lovely Bloke meets Lovely Bloke
This is a fairly long story, but bear with me, it’s good.

Rightyo, a friend of mine Dave has lived on his boat on the Thames for years. Never, really had a permanent job he does odd jobs for people how live in the large houses along the banks of the river.

One day Dave is happily pootiling along when the clouds open, the wind picks up and almighty summer storm ensues. Dave decides it would be best to moor up asap and get in doors. He heads to the bank and moors up along side a palatial house where he sees a guy in the garden packing up and heading inside. Dave shouts across to ask if it would be ok to moor up for the length of the storm and the guy says it not a problem, he can stay as long as he needs to.

Dave being Dave takes this invitation quite literally and moors up for the night. Next day the guy from the house knocks on Dave’s door. Rather than being horrible, the guy invites Dave for breakfast and says that he can use the cottage in the garden for a bath or whatever. Dave jumps at the chance of hot bath and then joins the guy for breakfast.

At breakfast Dave gets properly introduced to Jimmy the owner of the house and Jimmy’s Mother who is staying over for the week. They are soon getting on like a house on fire, Dave being one of those guys who can charm the birds from the trees. Anyhows, Jimmy tells Dave that he really likes his company and that if he has nothing else to do he could stay at the bottom of the garden and do some odd jobs for him.

After a week with Jimmy, Dave was ready to move on and to thank Jimmy for his hospitality he invites him and his Mother for a trip on the Thames, followed by lunch and a pint in riverside pub. At the Pub, Dave could sense that something was not quite right. People kept staring at them and whispering. Just before they were leaving someone comes up to Jimmy and asks him for his autograph, telling him the he is their hero. Dave was obviously thinking “who the hell are you” but said nothing.

Back at the house Dave’s curiosity gets the better of him and he asks the question: “Jimmy, I have to ask but who the hell are you? And why are you that guy’s hero?”. Jimmy tells Dave that he is a guitar player in a band called Led Zeplin, i.e. he is Jimmy Paige. Dave’s face doesn’t move a muscle. If fact, his exact words were “Never herd of yer, are you any good?”.

This was about 5 years ago and since then Dave and Jimmy have become best buddies.

More hilarity ensues, there is a further story about when Jimmy and Dave won a competition on the back of packet of cornflakes, the prize was to have Atomic Kitten sing for you in your house. They did, turned up, realised they were at a proper musicians house and shat themselves.
(notquitewithit, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:44, Reply)

errr, do forgive me but...
half you fucking lemons are simply listing the so called famous people you've met rather than a hero who pissed on your dreams.

I'm sure I'm not speaking for myself when I say - READ THE CUNTING QUESTION!

Thanks
(Fonkadelix is fucking bored, pass the crack pipe Mavis., Fri 26 May 2006, 15:42, Reply)

Chest bursters
I got on the tube one Saturday morning, hungover, and slumped into a seat.

Then I saw who was sat opposite me. Charles Dance, dressed in his MCC best, reading the Times, and looking generally dapper and refined.

Now having watched Alien 3 for the first time the previousu night, it was a bit disturbing to see a guy in the flesh who had clearly been ripped apart a few hours previously. It gave me the fear.

Mr Dance ended up moving seat as he was clearly not enjoying the sweating freak staring at him....
(fried gold, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:37, Reply)

Should have put her foot down......
What must be about 10 years ago I had a ladyfriend from Cornwall come to visit me in Newcastle. I was still living at home at the time, being nothing more than a spotty 6thformer.We had a wonderful week together which came to an end too soon. We had missed the bus to the station where my friend was catching her train home from, so my mother offered us a lift. My mum's driving has never been much cop but when there is the slightest pressure on her to get somewhere it becomes even worse. Cue a horrendous trip through the streets of Newcastle & Gateshead and a good few near misses before pulling into the pickup area of Central Station. We had been in quite a hurry and my mum, bless her socks, was doing her best impression of Nigel Mansell to make good time. Screeching round the corner next to the station entrance in her Seat Marbella (like a Panda, but cheaper and lighter), she stopped just in time to avoid a huge throng of people making their way into the station. It became quickly obvious that the various people diving left and right to avoid the shoddy red car were paperazzi, dripping with microphones and cameras. In the middle of the quickly dispersed crowd was a rather startled and frightened Tony Blair MP(at the time).

Who needs fancy assasination squads? A crazed woman in a clapped out Marbella will do the job much cheaper. I should maybe point out that Tony has never been a hero of mine, so maybe I'm wasting your time.

Apologies.
( peregrinefark, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:34, Reply)

the holiday destination of the rich, famous and unpleasant
coming from St.Andrews I'm well aware that celebrities are usually less pleasant than the more naive souls among us might think. When i was waitressing at the Open Golf Championships in summer 2000, in a two-story restaurant tent, we encountered Ronnie Corbett, who treated my waitressing friend Lynn like a piece of dirt on his shoe. It would've been funny, if Lynn hadn't been slightly upset by the experience.
Also I have some friends working at a well known hotel in St.Andrews who heard first account stories of the recent Kevin Costner incident, which involved a hotel masseuse, his penis, and some pretty lewd behaviour....

Once a few years ago i was back home in a pub called the Central with a friend of mine. My friend glanced over to the other end of the bar and said, very casually, "Oh, Prince William's in tonight."
I followed the direction of my friend's eyes and saw a pissed-looking, tall blonde horsey-faced git in a rugby shirt propping himself up on the bar. Thinking my friend was joking, i laughed and said that was pretty funny.

A moment later I looked back and saw Prince William at the other end of the bar, eating chips, surrounded by a bunch of horsey-faced girls who were clamouring for his attention.

It really made me want to be sick, but i thought it was pretty funny too. Later that evening I passed the prince again on the street and hardly recognised him at first - he was resplendant in baseball cap, with two very big beefy-looking blokes also in baseball caps escorting him home.

My father also saw the student who was to become his girlfriend in Tescos a few times. Apparently to overhear her talking was like having a dentist's drill forcibly inserted into your ear.

And people wonder why i left St.Andrews.
(you_always_felt_like_suede, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:31, Reply)

Oh, and also....
...my mate Ted saw Richard Wilson (of One Foot in the Grave). He was with another mate Dougal, who thought it would be a great idea for Ted to go over and say "I don't believe it!" to Mr Wilson.

Surprisingly, it didn't go down well, and hilarious hi-jinks ensued.
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:23, Reply)

Newsround
John Craven told me to fuck off once.



In fact, as I've never seen him before or again, the only time I ever met john Craven he told me to fuck off.
( fr13day has everything required to be a Penguin, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:22, Reply)

Back in my days of commuting...
...I fell asleep (as usual) on the Silverlink 17:50 from Euston, only to wake up and find myself sitting with Rich Hall. He was dressed as Otis Lee Crenshaw and chatting to another guy. After a while he caught my eye and said hello - as did the other guy, whose name I didn't catch and was too embarrassed to ask him to repeat it. We chatted a bit - turns out they were on their way to a gig in Birmingham, and a bit concerned at the possibility of being late.
All in all, they were both dashed nice chaps - I'm just disappointed that I didn't get a chance to say "Ah, Otis Lee Crenshaw I presume" when I woke up.
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:21, Reply)

and horses
In a firkin pub in my home town. At the time was some theatre production, and Boycie out of Only Fools and Horses was in it. the pub was opposite the theatre and he came in for a pint...everyone was shitting themselves with excitement, while he looked nervously around the room waiting for the inevitability of someone to shout 'Marleeeeennne!'...my mate plucked up the courage to talk to him, so i sidled over but just smiled like a sychophantic loon, and looked on expectantly waiting for him to say something amusing. While pleasant enough he just had a look on his face that read 'I wish all these fucking students would leave me alone, i'm an actor you know, please don't typecast me you spotty little oiks'. I seem to remember he had quite a posh voice which threw me a bit as well...
(balboa, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:18, Reply)

Golden shower for Mr Young
Many years ago at the Gaumont theatre in Southampton (now called the poncy Mayflower!!) My sister was very drunk at the crowded bar and ordered a pint of lager (or urine as its known to the rest of the world) On taking a drink she spat it out shouting it tasted like piss all over Paul Young who had been waiting for his own drink... He took it very well and resisted chinning the stiletto wearing permed inebriate slapper...

I've been to the east, I've been to the west, the girls I like best are the one on crack...Prefreably whores as well....
(SheepInRubberPantsTurnMeOn, Fri 26 May 2006, 15:10, Reply)