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Here are the rules of the game: You have to come up with a tenuous connection to a celebrity. The cheesier or weirder the celebrity the more points you get. The more tenuous (or weirder) the connection the better too (although there is a cut-off point – seeing them on television does not count, nor does merely living in the same country).
Last years winners were:
(1) The Prestigious UK Award:
Norah: “I once snogged a guy whose gran knows Jon BonJovi’s mumâ€
(2) The Equally Prestigious International Award:
Jen: “Sean Penn cried in front of my mum about what a bitch Madonna wasâ€
You cannot use a connection that you have entered before. For the bibulous amongst you the prize is plonk. For the others (or at your discretion) it will be something that has fallen off the back of a truck headed for Amazon.com.
Place your entries by leaving comments. The winners will be decided Nigerian Election stylee: there will be a vote but then I will steal the ballot boxes.
Good luck!
I once worked with a woman whose attractive sister dated Brad Pitt AND had Sheryl Crow sing at her wedding to someone other than Brad.
When my cousin moved to London last year, I’m told he worked for a man who had been James Blunt’s commanding officer in the army (he didn’t like to dwell on it).
And my mother works with Ian Gillan’s godson.
My friend Pete has a friend who is in a band that supported Pete Doherty at a gig the other week.
My sister once played flashlight tag backstage with Billy Idol’s stage crew whilst the Idol himself was singing.
[Query: how many entries do we get?]
Queeny – That’s some first entry
YD – I don’t know whether to credit you with extra cheese for Blunt or punish you for mentioning him
Katja – I like the double Pete symmetry
Cronz – You can put in more than one – I would then pick one for you.
I tried to redeem myself with the mention of (the great) Mr. Gillan. Besides I thought the first mentioned was just the sort of annoying waste of molecules perfect for this.
This might not mean anything to non-Australians, but Norman Lindsay once asked my very prudish great-grandmother if he could paint her very beautiful daughter. Great-Gran was tickled pink until she realised that he painted rather garish cavorting nudes.
I went to college with a man who went to school with Kate Moss in Croydon, and said she was not much to look at back then and that it had never crossed his mind to bang her!
My Mum’s boss at Tesco was married to a cousin of either French or Saunders. (I can’t remember which one, but I did score a signed autograph out of the deal, which I still have, about twenty years later).
My Dad was chosen to be the on-set R.N for Phil Collins when he was filming scenes from the movie Buster in Leicestershire. He didn’t meet him though, because unfortunately Mr Collins remained very healthy throughout the shoot. The bastard.
Also, just to note: I realize now that my sentence construction is shite. Anybody would think the movie was called Buster in Leicestershire. In fact, the full name was “Buster: The Movie That Nobody Watched”
Have I done the one about my husband peeing next to Geoffrey Howe in a restaurant lav?
How about my Vaclav Havel one? I was in a taxi in Prague stuck in a traffic jam and the guy in the next car was Vaclav Havel and he smiled at me,
Or the big one – my husband went out with a girl whose boyfriend once went out with Kim Wilde. Now, I think that’s good tenuosity.
I used to live 9 doors down from Beaky’s auntie.
Remember Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky Mick and Tich?
That Beaky.
cj
I bumped into Chris Farlowe on a train and gave him a lift to Butlins.
You know Chris Farlowe – Out of Time? Handbags and Gladrags?
Good grief!
cj
I think cj has it in the bag. I wish my aunty lived near Beaky.
No! I’ve got it wrong. Darn you, red wine! I wish I lived 12 doors down from Dozy’s gran.
Michael Moore of R.E.M. once painted my toenails on my left foot (and most of the toes) red at 3:00 a.m.
Is his name Michael Moore even? I don’t know. I have a cold. The guy with the glasses, Old Whatsisname.
Keith Richardsnearly ran me over once…Jumped out of the car to see if I was okay… But wait… I imagine everyone has a Keith Richard’s story like that…
My SIL tried to buy Thom Yorke(From Radiohead) a drink and he sent it back..Oh… Everyone has a Thom Yorke story like that…
Ohhh,I have to come back here and think of one…
So, wonderful to hear your voice Moobs…Listened over at Crankmama…Great interview… Maybe you should do a post on how we, all your blogger fans, all conspire to meet the infamous Moobs!
1. I served drinks to Peter Buck from REM and his blonde British girlfriend at Spats in Berkeley, California.
2. I had a client who went to high school with Brad Pitts little brother.
3. I stood in front of Sting when he and the Police played at the Whiskey a go go in 1976. Oh yeah, the Clash played to – I still have a crush on Mick Jones.
4. I went to high school with the little blonde girl in the 1970s Nestle Crunch Ad. Her nickname was crunchy. Her best friend was Kristy McNichol from the television show “Family”.
I once sat next to “celebrity chef” Gary Rhodes in Pizza Hut in Orpington waiting for a takeaway.
The comedian Adrian Edmondson had the season ticket directly behind mine at Stamford Bridge.
My husband stood behind Jake Moon from EastEnders in a Post Office queue in London. He asked him to call me to confirm he wasn’t dead (!) but I didn’t hear my phone ringing. Oh well.
Oh and I nearly ran over Duncan Goodhew (the swimmer) who was going to a wedding at the church up the road from where I used to live. He just walked out in front of my car without looking.
SM – which stand are you in?
Okay…
I am back…
It has to be obscure…
So here is my REAL submission…
My late best friend was motorcyling with Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy’s son through Italy where they stayed with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor while they were filming Cleopatra…
The best part of it all was that all servants of Liz and Dick had to be topless…
Harrison Ford’s brother was at my wedding.
The backstory:
A good friend (who was recently divorced from my cousin) and I used to hang out a coffee house down the street from where we both lived. She had a crush on a guy we would always see there, and when talking to him he’d make vague references to being from ‘an acting family.”
He turned out to be Harrison Ford’s brother. They’re married now.
I once shared a sympathetic glance and wave with John Travolta over dinner in Orlando – a dinner he was too busy signing cocktail napkins to eat. I believe he was filming “Look who’s talking.” My dinner date, “That guy looks just like John Travolta would if he were thirty.” Me, “Nah, can’t be him, too respectable. John Travolta would look like this” (imagine humiliating 70s disco pose). Our waitress, “Oh my GOD! You’re sitting right next to John Travolta!” (break to hyperventilate) “You should get him to autograph your napkin!” (More hyperventilation and we didn’t see her for quite some time while she waited for him to sign a guest ticket for her.) He has now lived only a few miles from me in two different places, neither of them Orlando, and I may have seen his plane overhead once or twice (or not).
lmao! what a great game. I was the president of the Menudo fan club. So, I once got a hamburger for Ricky Martin
1. Not tenuous, actually – most exact – but I once rode around London in the back of Pete Townshend’s BMW while he yelled at pedestrians. I swear to god. I have a photo to prove it.
2. I once dated Lou Reed’s personal assistant before Lou Reed fired him.
3. Sean Astin rubbed my pregnant belly, but this was before he was very famous as a Hobbit, so tenuous in that he wasn’t really a very impressive celebrity at the time.
4. The father of Kevin Bacon (the actor) sat next to my husband watching a play that I happened to be in.
5. When I lived in Philadelphia, the tenant in the upstairs apartment in my house touched a woman on the shoulder while that woman was touching Bill Clinton at a cheesesteak restaurant. All extremely kinky and very greasy, from what I understand.
Ah Moobs, re the Chelsea season ticket, I don’t have it anymore, alas. It was East Middle. But it’s now all corporate and hideously expensive (mind you, it went up from £900 to £1400 when I had it. Hence I had to give it up and then I moved up t’North anyway. Now I’m just a very vocal armchair supporter).
Or here, to be more precise.
Oh poo it didn’t work.
I read the blog of a girl who once snogged a guy whose gran knows Jon BonJovi’s mum.
Beat that people. G’wan. try it.
(I’ll be back once I have dredged my memory, not many of mine are tenuous!)
My best friend (who is now officially engaged to my boss) once caught Bono backstage when Bono lost his balance (inebriation levels unknown for all parties). She still swoons at the thought of that moment and hasn’t yet washed the shirt she was wearing.
If Beaky’s auntie wasn’t tenuous enough to win me the plonk, maybe this will be. I once worked with a girl who had had a go on Pink Floyd’s drumkit.
I mean, how much more desperate can a claim to fame be?
cj
My Mom went to school with Aaron Spelling. He was a male cheerleader. Only males were allowed to be cheerleaders at SMU at that time!
Mine, is that in Maui in the “80’s, I ran into, literally, Chevy Chase’s daughter. She was only three at the time and loved running into me. I didn’t want to be the moonstruck fan, so I kept giving her back to her Mom. Chevy did tell me thanks, but I never got the courage to say a word back.
Alton Bird slept in my bed when I was nine!
I hasten to add . .. .. . . I was not in it at the time!!!!!! 🙂
Whilst at work on Friday one of my staff, sitting next to me, registered a girl who used to be Lulu and John Frieda’s personal chef!
Can you believe I spelled Byrd wrong in my own link?!?! Crazy..
1. David Essex stole my dad’s girlfriend at school
2. A girl I currently work with is best friends with a girl who is married to the cousin of Damon Albarn of Blur, Gorillaz fame..
Now.. That.is.pretty.tenuous!? No?
I’m really getting into this… there could be more… damn the red wine… 😆
Ok you’ve lured me in……
My cousin’s ex-boyfriend, who is no longer, used to drive a pink Rolls Royce around Birmingham, and once served drinks to Prince Andrew on a ship in Nice wearing nothing but furs.
Moobz – here’s the only one I can think of.
Steven Hendry the Snooker Player walked past me with his son when I was collecting for Charity in my local high street. No he didn’t donate.
Seemed pleasant enough, though.
Ok, ok, here’s one:
My husband works with a woman who sat next to the VIP area at the Sands pool in Las Vegas while Paris Hilton was snogging some guy in the VIP area.
my hairdresser does the hair of the mum of the drummer for the kooks
i once made scrambled eggs for viola, duchess of westminster
i bought my house from the bloke that plays uncle vernon in harry potter
i’m sure i can think of more … i’ll be back
If seeing snooker players in the street counts I should be alright, living in Sheffield and everything! There’s been a few here just recently.
Anyway, I’ve just remembered that the bloke who lives opposite me is supposed to be a distant relative of Captain Robert Falcon Scott (of Antarctic exploration fame). I have no idea in what way he’s related though.
Oh oh I’ve got another one – my Uncle’s wife’s Dad was Elvis Presley’s chauffeur.
I once played my flute in an orchestral event at Wembley Arena on a Wednesday night when Take That were playing Tue, Thur, Fri. So I got to pick my way through thousands of discarded soft toys, fan letters and photos of semi-naked teenage girls which had been thrown on the floor backstage….
I was once very well connected to Clare Frisby.
I knocked her over, in Paragon Station in Hull.
It was an accident, mind: I’m not like that.
ooh ooh – when my sister was at cambridge, prince charles knocked her over on his bike. she grazed her knee.
my friend from paris has a friend who used to teach president mitterand to speak engish
Oh god – when I first started reading these, names and faces flashed to mind and I realised I had quite a few. But then as the memories started coming back they were accompanied by the awful realisation that, despite the impossibly convoluted tenuousness of some of the associations, I’ve spent countless ego-inflated hours in pubs or at dinner parties over the years repeating these fleeting brushes with ‘celebrities’ (and you’ll see below that I must use the term loosely) in a vainglorious attempt to grab some sense of vicarious self-worth. I now realised I’m just a shallow, hollow, crusty husk of a man… I don’t think even your excellent taste in wine Moobs can save me from eternal damnation…
I think the only way to redeem myself is actually to link them all in a networking sequence…
So here goes:
1) My ex-marketing assistant’s brother is really good friends with the recently-married husband to Little Britain funny man and occasional quiz-show drummer Matt Lucas. Now I think of it, the ex-marketing assistant herself used to work in a pub where the lead singer of the Barron Knights drank…that’s probably even better…
2) Pubs – One of my many hundred Irish cousins worked in a pub in London in the 90s that was frequented by Andrew Ridgeley and I once shared a urinal with him there during a late-night lock-in. Just the two of us. In absolute silence. Peeing. I didn’t cross the streams…
3) Toilets – I have (only two days ago) used a toilet just-vacated by Dustin Hoffman, in the Virgin Atlantic lounge at Heathrow’s terminal 4. Sadly there was no exciting tale to tell of him nudging me and quipping ‘I wouldn’t go in there for a while mate!’ or anything so frivolous. But perhaps the little droplets underfoot were remnants of his urine. A comforting thought…
(Incidentally Joseph Fiennes was on my flight and stood behind me in the queue at passport control for about twenty minutes. Since I couldn’t remember a single film he’d been in to compliment him on, I kept shtum for the whole time).
4) Virgin Atlantic – Last October I flew to LA on business and shared an Upper Class section with Derren Brown (TV hypnotist) and Glenn Campbell (who I’d chatted to at the ‘bar’ on the plane for forty minutes before discovering who he was – it took his line ‘that was the year that Rolling Stone magazine voted me ‘guitarist of the year’ to trigger the recognition in me that he might be famous…). A brief while later, Campbell introduced me to a ‘friend’ of his who came to the bar for a bottle of water, the uber-cool Samuel L Jackson. Grasping the fleeting opportunity, and sharing a love of golf, I tried to engage him in conversation by asking him if he’d played in the UK. Almost as quickly as he’d arrived, he left, but moaned about having lost to a journalist but that it was the fault of his borrowed clubs. Feeling snubbed, in classic kiss and tell style I got my own back by contacting the magazine and told them how disappointed he was and they ran it as a gleeful postscript to their article rubbing in his loss. And yes, I am ashamed of myself.
5) Movie stars – I took my wife for her 30th to Verona as a surprise and stayed in a hotel right in the centre (beautiful place incidentally if anyone fancies a European escape). A horror film convention was on and on the way back from nipping out to by my wife a new hair clip I got into a lift occupied by a tall, grey-haired man with a powerful aura of evil and inpenetrable darkness of spirit (I can sense these things). As a film-buff I desperately wanted to say hello and show how clever and educated I was that I recognised him, but satisfied myself with running to the room and regaling the obviously-exciting news that I’d shared the lift with Vincent Price. Smug about my brush with someone famous, I went on about it for 10 minutes as my wife finished fixing her hair, only for her to casually remind me as we left the room that Vincent Price had been dead for about ten years. It was Christopher Lee. Bugger.
6) My wife – after finishing secretarial college, my wife’s first job interview was at Buckingham Palace for the post of personal assistant to the personal assistant of the toe-sucked celebrity slimmer the Duchess of York. On the second interview she even briefly met her in one of the corridors in the palace. If a palace has corridors that is, as opposed to grand promenades…
7) Forgotten film stars – My wife was once held as a baby by Richard Harris, who was in a local hostelry during a brief interlude from filming in the area. Or it could have been Peter O’Toole. Her parents can’t quite remember.
8) My wife’s parents – I once got outlandishly drunk at a Cricket Club Dinner and ranted at special guest England spin bowler John Childs that I could’ve been a contender. It went on for so long that when he finally escaped, he moaned to the person who’d invited him there no one should have to put up with such a complete ar*ehole. Unfortunately it was to my father-in-law. Who then agreed with him.
9) My father-in-law – My father-in-law is good friends with a man whose son went to school with the afore-slated James Blunt, and in fact met him at a party on his friend’s boat just before he released his first album. They sang a duet together. On the boat that is, not on the album.
10) Singers – when looking round a very ordinary house in a village near where I live (I was looking to buy it – I wasn’t burgling it or anything), I was shown into the ‘study’, and entered a shrine to Rod Stewart, with photos and gold records adorning the walls. The owner was his older brother. He wore a cardigan.
I tell you what Moobs, this is a great cure for jet-lag. I’d better stop though because I’ve just remembered bumping into west-end singing sensation Michael Ball at the checkouts in Banana Republic and I think that’s opening up some mental scars best left untouched.
One of these surely has to be a wine-winner…
Oh no, I’ve just remembered that my wife’s friend’s friend’s husband once fitted blinds in Cliff Richard’s house…
I’ve got to stop this. I’m really meant to be sleeping…
Just realised I meant Steve Davis and not Steven Hendry.
Whoops!
1. I sat in front of a woman at a baseball game on Saturday night in DC who claimed to have slept with the owner of the Washington Nationals Professional baseball team. (what a thrill, i know).
2. A woman I work with stayed at a nice hotel in NYC. She asked for directions at the front desk to some place where she was meeting colleagues. The front desk staff member grabbed a piece of ‘scratch paper’ and jotted down the directions. Later, when my coworker was going through her stuff, she flipped over the paper and on the back of it was some information of Jeffrey’s (the winner of Project Runway) from when he stayed at the hotel during fashion week.