Awestruck by his utterly brilliant presence, I told him of the time I started a chant of "Wacaday Wacaday Wacaday" during an England football match at Wembley, which, after a couple of choruses, had gone from a couple of sad bastards singing on their own to some 80,000 filling the night sky with gibberish.
Mr Mallett was hugely impressed by my finest hour, and I got a big double thumbs up in return. I did not see his Pinky Punky.
Which borderline / past-it celebrities have you met, eh?
Not a vote-o
I'm feeling like toilet this morning, and thussly I am lacking the hummus to hold a Thursday vote-o this week. In which case, tomorrow's tale of mirth and woe will be one that you lot never vote for, and it serves you right:
* The Operator: "It was the worst possible scenario. The four-minute warning was sounding, and here he was in a Turkish bath-house. In for a Turkish New Lira..."
Copyright Alistair Coleman and Bowfell Publishing Limited 2002-2009
Privacy Policy: Personal details collected on this site are not used in any way for marketing or other purposes except with the express permission of the user.
Abuse: The webmaster reserves the right to delete, edit or alter user comments on the grounds of abuse, taste or decency. Or if I think I can get a cheap laugh.