Celebrity C**ts

[DaveB]

When Rick Mayal was doing the research for Alan B'stard he contacted Portillo and interviewed him. I thought Portillo was fairly mild mannered if a little smug, but it would appear he's far more of a twat than I imagined

But still not a patch on Geoffrey Archer. He turned up at our school speach day one year. Boring sanctamonious twat. Looked and acted bored stiff for the entire afternoon.

[Drewster]

But still not a patch on Geoffrey Archer. He turned up at our school speach day one year. Boring sanctamonious twat. Looked and acted bored stiff for the entire afternoon.

an honest politician!!!!

[Doggy Styles]

But still not a patch on Geoffrey Archer. He turned up at our school speach day one year. Boring sanctamonious twat. Looked and acted bored stiff for the entire afternoon.

I'm still in awe that you were told to **** off by Peter Cook.

I'm trying to picture it. Was he unkempt? Or wearing his cloth cap perhaps?

[bogeyman]

I'm still in awe that you were told to **** off by Peter Cook.

I'm trying to picture it. Was he unkempt? Or wearing his cloth cap perhaps?

The platypus...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V-4tcsCLnws

He was pissed, as ever.

[NotAllThere]

At a hotel Robbie Coltraine held open a door for a girl I was with, making a little extended eye-contact with her to try to get her to wonder who he was. Upon enquiring I told her, in a loud voice so he would hear "That's Scotland's finest actor", then "many famous films he's been in. The best? "Nuns on the Run"

He gave me a scowl

You should have said he's Rab C Nesbitt.

[NickFitz]

Rather the opposite of the original purpose of this thread, but others have spoken well of people, so here goes

In 1980 I had the good fortune to interview Roger McGough, Adrian Henri and our new Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy after a joint reading they gave at the Haymarket Theatre. I was a callow youth, about three weeks into studenthood, and blagged the opportunity (by having the idea during the interval and finding the theatre's PR chap through asking at the box office) on the grounds that I was planning to write a review of the evening for the Students' Union newspaper.

First up was Adrian. He had a lordly and expansive manner, and bought me a pint - a kindness I was sadly never able to return, as the bar closed as I was talking to him, and he died before I ever had another opportunity of meeting him. He was more than happy to answer anything I asked with some wonderful anecdote. He was a great raconteur, and a pleasure to be with.

He passed me along to Carol Ann, who was living with him at the time - well, living at the same address; I'm not implying that they were an item (although they may have been for all I know). She was kind and friendly, doing her best to be helpful in the face of my obvious gaucherie.

She then introduced me to Roger. He was also a kind and gentle soul, though not above a few subtle digs at my naiveté; being a Scouser myself, I recognised these, and accepted them in the spirit in which they were offered: one of simple friendliness that recognises but does not criticise flaws that will, in time, pass.

All in all, I reckon they were three of the nicest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Each of them was, in person, exactly what one might have expected of them from their poetry; and that's probably the hallmark of a great poet.

My favourite point of the evening, though, was when I was first talking to Carol Ann. I pointed at the plaster cast on her left wrist and said, "That'll teach you not to run out in front of taxis after getting pissed in a Greek restaurant on Mount Pleasant with George Melly."

Her jaw dropped; she gazed at me in blank astonishment for a couple of seconds.

Finally she gasped, "How did you know about that?"

"Because Melly wrote about it in his column in Punch this week," I cheerfully replied.

Her jaw dropped again. "That bastard Melly... I'll get him for that!"

Then her hand flew to her mouth as a thought struck her:

"Oh God, I hope my Mum hasn't read that!"

[Churchill]

Do you know who I am?

After living in France for quite a while my ex-wife and I used to still visit friends occasionally.

Having had a long-standing relationship with "Europcar" I was well known by the staff at Nice airport.

On one such visit I walked up to the Europcar desk at the airport to find Richard Madely and family at the desk in front of me. Richard was very upset and said "But you must have a car for me, do you know who I am?"

To which I replied in my best stage whisper, "No Richard, they're French, how the f**k are they supposed to know who the hell you are?"

I was then informed by the nice chap behind the desk "Ahh, Mr Churchill, your car is waiting for you outside in the usual spot." - priceless.

Talking about France, I once did a weekends work as bodyguard to Kurt Russel and Goldie Hawn and their children. Nice people - really!

[zara_backdog]

I'm still in awe that you were told to **** off by Peter Cook.

I'm trying to picture it. Was he unkempt? Or wearing his cloth cap perhaps?

Peter Cook ' Twanged' my Garter Belt once !