Jesus H Christ – Connery the oirish jocko cunt was a mean grim humourless bastard to everyone, not just wimmin.
My wife was an Assistant Director (one of those endless credits that wizzes past at warp speed) on some crap film (name escapes me) in which Connery played some Victorian detective chappie – deer stalker, tweeds, Inverness cape ect ect.
Because such shit shoots late into the night/early am and was behind schedule I went along as her minder and for all the free 24/7 catering and doggy bags. That little slap head half Indian cunt was in it (wassisname?), another mean luvvie bastard as some sort of Dr Watson character.
Connery totally and deliberately to screw his fellow thesps only came out of his caravan for his shot then fucked off back into it again. You could see the cunt in there with a calculator and a spreadsheet talking to his agent about money and how they could screw more out of the production company.
Now Yours Truly is universally known for being a mild easy going sort of chap, a breaker of ice during tense situations always ready with a gag to pop to bring the world back to a state of Peace and Love. Made to order situation presented itself when Connery (another slap head cunt) eventually re-emerged to have his hair piece sprayed down and adjusted. Immediately surrounded by hangers-on.
Location a fox infested graveyard and crematorium in South London. Filming intermittently halted by the screaming of foxes during mating.
Yours Truly: Whato Seano! What’s worn beneath your kilt now you’re getting on a bit?
Admittedly not the snappiest gag but had the rest of the cast and crew in splutters.
Connery (you can do the accent): I want that cunt removed from the set. Fooking banned.
Yours Truly: Sorry Seano, they can’t do that, this is a public place and I happen to know that they have no permit from the Council to shoot tonight.
Background laughter from cast and crew.
Connery was so hated that no one would take my money that night – free Turbot Creole (a bit spicy) with some luxury jocko pudding ( Connery’s favourite) from the catering people and a decent single malt whiskey on tap courtesy from wassissname. Heard a while later that the production had been pulled due to Connery’s constant demands for cash.
Biggest horse laugh is that early next morning there were queues for the portable khazis, Yours Truly and wife included. Fucking Connery and his Turbot Creole. Connery remained glued to the khazi in his own caravan.
Fond memories. Very.
Nominated by: Sir Limply Stoke




