I was stirred to consider fame by Ron’s recent nomination of Dylan Mulvaney. Admittedly he is an extreme example but becoming famous so commonly pushes normal people out of a stable orbit. Some cope with fame admirably. JK Rowling springs to mind, you may not like her politics but to her that’s your fucking problem. However armies of the famous really do not. Consider present-day TV “personalities”, game show entrants, pop “musicians” and most glaring of all those “influencers” on the interweb. A few are sound but most are away with the fairies. Personally I treasure my anonymity. When I see lottery winners being interviewed on TV it gives me the creeps. In their position I would run for the hills before the journalists found me. I don’t gamble though, so I’ll never become a millionaire by taking a pound off each of a million people who can ill afford to lose it. First cousin to fame is of course power, something else I don’t crave. The only power I want is the ability to pay the bills and to say what I think, which latter is obviously being eroded year on year but that’s a subject for another nom.
Still, I console myself with the knowledge that many people think my way. Consider how many people when offered something in the debased honours system tell the politicos to stick the gong where the sun doesn’t shine.
Nominated by arfurbrain.
I’ve met quite a few famous people.
I treat them with the same scorn and contempt I’d show to anyone.
I’ve never been starstruck, although if like Arfur above it was Clint Eastwood I might be?
I’d never lower myself to ask for a photo or autograph,
Fuck that.
Get the feeling it’d be a fuckin nuisance being famous?
Doubt I’d like it.
Most of the famous cunts I’ve met have been nice to be fair.
Only one who wasn’t was footballer Andy Cole.
What a fuckin cock he was!
Loved himself.
No
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Met a good few Man United players, Miserable.
Bryan Robson, David Beckham (pre Skeletor), Ole Gunnar Soljksjaer, Norman Whiteside, Paul McGrath, Lee Sharpe Teddy Sheringham, all sound lads.
‘Andrew’ Cole, Peter Schmichel, Wayne Rooney. complete and utter bellends.
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Not me Mis, that was Wanksock. You’re forgiven.
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Ive met a few famous people,although they were also lucky enough to have met me.
My brother has encountered a few famous types and called a couple of them cunts for their arrogant behaviour. Tiff Needell was mone, Colin Murray another.
I’m yet to call any famous people ‘cunt’ although have done to some people who act as if they’re famous.
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Me as well.
I once sat next to Lorraine Kelly in a bistro, and stood next to Ken Stott in a café bog. I also passed Stephen Fry on the street one time; I was going to ask for an autograph but couldn’t pluck up the nerve.
Sadly I fear going to my grave without meeting Ant and Dec, Katie Price and Meghan Markle.
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Nice to see JK Rowling has denounced those little nepobaby turds Daniel Ratsdick and Emma ‘srick insect’ Twatson.
Were it not for JK (and their rich showviz connected parents) those trannie licking Judas cunrs would be fuck all. Because neither of them coukd act, even with a gun pointed at their heads.
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‘srick insect’ Tht’s Japanese for stick insect….
Showiz is Kraut for showbiz…
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I suspect what really bugs Radcliffe and his mates is that JK’s a Remoaner.
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Or the fact that Danny Boy was never engulfed by JK’s magnificent funbags,
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His little wizards pecker couldn’t handle her.
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Mer three members of Duran Duran in Manchester’s Living Room bar in 2004. Simon Le Bon, Nick Rhodes and Roger Taylor. All top and funny lads who got their rounds in. Nothng flash about them at all.
Mick Hucknall in the same bar was, however, a copper bottomed cunt.
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Keith Allen, father of Lily Mong.
Met him too, another massive cunt,
Saw Linda Lusardi at service station in 1988. Lovely girl.
And , yes I wouldgave done, On the spot.
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