Not so Big Yin

Sorry about that, I've been away again, and work's turning to a pile of steaming shit at the minute so I haven't been arsed to blog.
Anyway, while I was away at the Edinburgh Festival I met Billy Connolly. Well, when I say met I shook his hand. I don't normally hold with approaching famous people for number of reasons: 1) they probably don't want to be disturbed and you might get a 'fuck off' 2 ) I'm incredibly shy 3) I hate massaging egos 4) there's that old adage about meeting your heroes - you'd only be disappointed.
I can count on the fingers of one hand the famous people I've met, they are Mickey Dolenz (a former resident of this town whom I used to serve on a regular basis), Brian Laws (former Nottingham Forest player, now manager of Burnley. His appearance fee was 1.5 ltr bottles of Gordon's gin, Bell's whisky, Smirnoff vodka and Courvoisier brandy. Thing is, we found out later we could have had Stuart Pearce who was the England captain at the time but Laws got in first. Groo!), Bill Maynard (at the height of his "Oh No, It's Selwyn Froggatt" fame. His catchphrase at the time was "Magic, our Morris" and that's exactly what he said to me), John McGovern (former Nottingham Forest twice European Cup-lifting captain, the only man to have captained a European Cup-winning side more times is the great Franz Beckenbauer. It was at a book-signing, my mate asked me to take along his Forest shirt to be signed, when he asked me who it was for I said "Steve" and from then on he addressed me as 'Steve'.).
The only person who I've always said I'd approach is Mark Radcliffe. My admiration for that man knows no bounds. He's my generation's John Peel. I'd just like to shake his hand and thank him for all the great music he's introduced me to and for all the listening pleasure he's given for the past sixteen years. Let me tell you, when you have a job supplementing your income by delivering Chinese takeaways at night in this town his, and Lard's voice, were always welcome. Especially as it was on his show where I first heard Pink Floyd with Syd Barrett. You'd also get poetry mixed with comic turns and top notch session guests. He's still great and whoever decided to put his show down to three nights a week should be shot. I also believe that Radcliffe buys anyone who approaches him as a fan a pint. So, happy days!
Back to Connolly then, I was walking in the Grassmarket area of Edinburgh's Old Town at about ten in the morning. I saw this bloke walking towards me with long white hair and a small pair of spectacles on the end of his nose. I thought to myself "'Ello" I thought "This bloke looks a bit like Billy Connolly". The giveaway was a banjo pin badge on the lapel of his jacket, by this stage he was a few feet in front of me. I just stuck my hand out, he took it shook it and I said "I'm a massive fan. Thanks" to which he just said "Thanks very much" and carried on walking. That's all that was required, no trying to stop and get a picture or chat, I met my ultimate comic hero. End of. The thing is, if I'd had chance to think about it I wouldn't have done anything, I'd have just thought to myself "Oh God, there's Billy". No doubt he completely forgot about it a minute later and went about his business, although I like to think that he hasn't washed his right hand yet. And why he's called 'The Big Yin' is lost on me, he's no taller than my 5' 11".

I know that they're a probably people reading this who meet well known people all the time, who'll think "Wow, you met someone famous" but it was a big deal to me (as someone who spent far too much of his youth listening to his records and watching his videos), and to which I say this, it's about the quality of the personality, not the quantity

'Clarnon around

I've become a 'fan' of Liz McClarnon on Facebook (that's her in the picture, in the shithouse at The Alan Titchmarsh Show that I nicked off her Facebook page). Do you know who she is? She was one third of the average girl band Atomic Kitten. I fell in love with her a little bit when she did Celebrity Master Chef a couple of years back, and I recently became transfixed by her latest effort for BBC 3 called Hotter Than My Daughter (which, when I first saw listed, thought was a handy guide to the menopause).
I tell you what, it's no surprise everyone wants to be a 'celebrity' these days. To say she was an average singer in an average band I reckon she's not lifted a finger to do any proper work. Ever.
Looking at her Facebook updates her days appear to be filled with appearances on Loose Women, The Alan Titchmarsh Show, The Wright Stuff, Angela Griffin and Friends, This Morning, Live From Studio fucking Five and any other number of inane daytime TV shows you could name.
To be fair she is going on tour with Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of HG Wells's War of the Worlds later in the year. But she gets to go out on tour with 'the lovely Jason Donovan and Rhydian'. Even that's not really work though. I've seen the touring version of Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of HG Wells's War of the Worlds and her part just requires her to sing "No, Nathaniel....no, Nathaniel....no, Nathaniel...." once every few bars. And she's just returned from a cruise which was, no doubt, paid for by Wish You Were Here or someone.
She's got her work cut out tonight though. According to her Facebook status she's in a quandary about what to wear to something called The Butterfly Ball. Apparently showbiz royalty like Elton John and, er, Joan Collins will be there. While she's there I'll be at work throwing shit into a skip. But whose happier, eh? Yeah, her. Groo!
The thing is, she appears on these daytime programmes to obviously give her opinion on all the latest 'news' and 'gossip'. Perhaps she ought to think about becoming one of those self-important tossers who start a blog. Oh, hang on...

Katie Price has her knockers...I'll get me coat

I've just heard this on the radio: "Katie Price has been giving her reaction to the marriage break-up between her and Peter Andre". How can you 'give your reaction' to a something that you've had a hand in yourself? It's hardly as though it's a big shock to her, is it? Lets not forget that she's famous for lobbing her ridiculously-sized fake breasts out for anyone and everyone.

Did anybody really think that their marriage was anything other than a well executed publicity stunt? I don't trust any of these so-called celebs any more. Look at Lewis Hamilton and his girlfriend, the Pussycat Dolls singer Nicole Scherzinger. I was watching the build up to the Spanish Grand Prix on Sunday and there she was standing beside Hamilton's car, looking, well, like a doll. Put it this way, her being his girlfriend is good for Pussycat Dolls business in Europe, and she's good for his profile in the US where nobody watches Formula 1 but where they're constantly on the lookout for the next Tiger Woods. Besides, I believe that Hamilton is incapable of a human emotion like love, especially when he openly cheated in his sport and then tried to shift the blame on to someone else entirely.
And don't even get me started on Cheryl Tweedy and Ashley Cole, otherwise m'learned friends might become involved, but we all know what's going off there, right?
My point is that these so-called 'celebrities' think we're thick. Why does Gordon Ramsay give off this family guy image when we all know what he really likes (don't we?). Same goes for David Beckham who has been proved to be unable to keep it in his tracksuit bottoms.
So, I would like to make it known that I'm banning celebrities in my house. Or even better I could become a celebrity myself, after all, I'm not particularly good or talented at anything, which never stops Heat magazine featuring you. So if any paps want to come and stand outside my house and take photos of me walking to the paper shop with my iPod earphones in and not exactly looking my best, then they're more than welcome. I can feel the buzz of the Hello!/OK! bidding war beginning as I type.

Edit: There's a good bit in today's Times which touches on Hamilton and Scherzinger by the always excellent Giles Smith here.