Guy :Caterer To The Stars-: Best & Worst Celebrities

My dear friend Guy owns a restaurant and is worth quite a few bob these days.
However,away back in the mists of time he did big events and media catering.
Asked him what celebrities he has met.Who was the nicest and who was the biggest pain in the arse..

Nicest Celebrity
Mick Jagger.Or rather Sir Mick as he is these days.Apparently former Wild Man of rock is a total gent.Well-mannered and completely charming


Worst Celebrity
Jimmy Nail.
Guy and his gang had been hired to do the catering on Spender (Jimmy Nail's cop show in the 1990's when he was at his peak)They though it was gonna be a great job and thought Jimmy would be 'one of the lads', much like his TV-persona.
Not a chance !
The first day,Jimmy came to the catering van and asked for a bottle of mineral water.Guy handed-him a bottle of Highland Spring only for Jimmy to give him a mouthful of expletives and how he wasn't going to be drinking "no Jock Piss-water" on his set.It was downhill from there and Guy and Co. left after 3 days ,chucked the job because of Jimmy The Nail's rudeness.
You never hear much of Jimmy Nail these days.

Paris:Me &The Pickpockets

I was warned.
On a recent trip to Paris for a holiday break I got my pocket-picked for the very first time.It was on the Paris Metro railway system.Was chatting to some English folks at the hotel and this poor lady had her handbag dipped and purse nicked... all very stressful.
I always carry my wallet in a money belt when overseas but tend to keep some loose banknotes in my pocket.Anyhow we had been sightseeing up at the Pompidou Centre and were travelling back to hotel when we had to change trains on the Metro.This was at rush hour and the stations and trains were packed full.
The train pulled into platform and we had to squash-in. While squashed-in, I started to feel someone's hand go into my trouser pocket and, annoyed by this I just made enough room to grab the hand and twist the wrist of the thieving git who was in my trouser pocket. A teenage boy near me in squashed compartment let out a yell and tried to wriggle free of my grip.While I had grabbed the wrist,another hand was going into my pocket and removing my money.
Original offender wriggled free and bolted through doors of train, which were just closing, along with his mate.
The whole thing lasted about 20 seconds but it was enough to rob me of 20 Euros.
Back at the hotel, geezer on reception told me the pickpockets on Metro are mostly gypsy children who work in gangs. I got a mental picture of them taking the spoils back to their parents at the end of the day.
Little Bastards!
Chatted to an American guy back at hotel called Alex who was totally outraged at my story and said if I wanted he would help me me find the thieves and "rip their fricking heads-off !" He was a burly ex-marine and I had no doubt his offer was genuine, however I declined.
This was the day before I came home and although the amount of money nicked was small
I was well pissed-off.It is just the principle of being robbed that I hated.
I have now been to Paris countless times and have always enjoyed myself there but now must say I have no intention of ever returning.There are other places I must visit.
However, if anyone offers me a free holiday there I would be right there in a minute.

Commonwealth Games Apathy

Who really gives a toss about the Commonwealth Games? Who really knows what the Commonwealth actually is these days and if they do who cares?Either way there will be a load of it on the BBC with the pretence that it is some kind of major event as the Beeb's 'live' sports output is all minority stuff these days (Apart from F1, of course).

Delhi has been described as the most dangerous Commonwealth Games venue in history.

Really? Ahead of Glasgow 2014, that just sounds like fighting talk.
Seriously, you think a couple of roof tiles in a weighlifting gym is bad?
Try running a marathon through Easterhouse.
The Glasgow Games will be the only ones in history where the crowd bring their own javelins. I still don't know how my home town won that bid.
I reckon the organisers turned up and saw loads of people hanging round street corners in tracksuits, and just presumed Glasgow folks were a sporty lot.

In fairness, Glasgow wouldn't let building work affect events. In fact, they'd incorporate it. Use the scaffolding for gymnastics, dive into drying cement for the long jump. And you haven't witnessed proper competition until you've seen the shot putt done with a half brick.

Awright Jimmy !

The Dragon With The Bleach White Teeth

Like most folk the first I knew of Duncan Bannatyne was when he popped-up on Dragon's Den on BBC TV.I honestly can say he never really appealed from the start.I always felt he was unnecessarily harsh to the applicants on the show and seemed to relish ridiculing the folk who were looking for cash for their daft business ideas.A Smart Alec but with no patter to back it up.
However, I was intrigued by him, a former ice cream man who made his fortune in care homes before moving on to health clubs and hotels.I was amazed to learn that he had after making his first pile of cash he trained to be an actor and that his agent, after failing to get him acting gigs,heard about Dragon's Den and from there his fame began if not his acting career.
After seeing he was on Twitter I started to follow him and listened to his opinions on various subjects.However,his main subject was himself and how much he loved himself and loved spouting forth about his wealth and holiday homes etc.I once suggested on twitter he should write a book of memoirs entitled The Man I Love:An Autobiography and he seemed to take it in good humour.
Other folks were not so lucky. A Twitter pal (Big Ag) once suggested his head was up his own backside following Bannatyne's pompius behahaviour on Out Of the Frying Pan(a TV show where Bannatyne behaved rudely towards two young caterers).Well didn't he go off on one? calling her various names and suggesting she was jealous of his great wealth. He also encouraged his followers to send her abusive messages which they did and caused her much upset.I was really amazed at how thin-skinned he was and the sheer venom he showed in revenge for a comment that would seem rather tame to most folk.
Comedian Ross Noble was next for Bannatyne's ire on Twitter. Ross encouraged his followers to bombard Bannatyne with fake business ideas. One memorable one was ‘Dear Mr Dragon, I think people should get free pie every time they go into one of those big-company buildings can you help?’, Bannatyne tweeted back: ‘Are you serious?’Other ideas followed like Jackson Four finger puppets, a butter stick ‘like a Pritt stick but with butter’ and a request for ‘£20million to genetically modify trees to make them mini, therefore easier to climb’. These were really funny, however Mr B did not share in the joke and started name-calling Ross and accusing him of (Yes you have guessed it-: being jealous of his fortune) Bannatyne came across as being pompous and arrogant and extremely petulant.
Nobody on Twitter boasts about their charity work as much as Duncan Bannatyne.He is always tweeting about it. "Look I am a nice guy.Really!" is the gist of it.

He also went on for months about fellow dragon James Caan and his Non-Dom status, claiming that Caan did not pay income tax.This came over as rather childish and Caan, to his credit, never rose to the bait and did not respond to Bannatyne. He is now saying Caan should be replaced on Dragon's Den By Karren Brady and has been told-off for this by Lord Sugar(a truly classy businessman).
Eventually Bannatyne got round to me.Earlier this week he was tweeting away about Britain and how it was such a wonderful country.I made the comment that it was so wonderful he went abroad to France at every opportunity(true)For this I got ridiculed, called a Twat and blocked from following him.Oh yes and let's not forget it was down to my being jealous of all his money.
Firstly,I am amazed it took him so long to block me given my ridicule of him.Next, the man actually considers my not being able to follow him as a punishment.Yeh right,watch me weep.The ego of the man knows no limits and his "toys oot the pram" behaviour speaks volumes about him.
On asking my Twitter followers for views on him, nobody had a good word to say.Occasionally he makes comments that he enjoys being unpopular but I believe he really wants to be loved and admired by the public.
In conclusion, he also dyes his hair,has had cosmetic surgery on his wrinkled boat race and his teeth dyed Domestos white so he looks silly as well as talking the same way.
And for that reason "I'm Out!"
What a jealous bastard I must be.

The Papa Hits Scotland

The Lord indeed moves in mysterious ways. Though on the evidence of this week, mainly along the M8. Yes, the Papal visit came to Scotland.
It was the biggest welcome for a religious leader since Tom Cruise's last film premiere.
Thankfully, it passed off without a hitch. Hallelujah.
Starting in Edinburgh, the Pope got an extremely warm welcome from the Queen.
Observers called it "momentous". Ian Paisley called it "confusing".
The two were singing from the same hymn sheet. Well, it was written in German.
Of course, security was tight, but fortunately they managed to wrestle Prince Philip's guns away from him.
I went for a view with Kirsty and Grace.Couldn’t resist it.The town was absolutely heaving as they say. However for The Papa the journey along Princes Street was particularly fraught with danger. Come on, Edinburgh city centre at lunchtime in a slow-moving car? He's lucky one of the Blue Meanie wardens didn't give the Popemobile a parking ticket.
Then off to Glasgow where Susan Boyle sang on stage and did Scotland proud.
It wasn't easy. She saw all those crosses and thought she was back on Britain's Got Talent getting buzzed off.
Good old SuBo, she's now performed in the presence of God. Makes a change from working for Cowell and performing in the presence of the Devil.
The visit wasn't without controversy. A key member of Benedict's entourage had to pull out for calling us a third world country. He's obviously been to Greenock. On the upside, we are getting a visit from Bono next week.
Bizarrely, they had the TV coverage on in my local pub where we ended-up later on. Now that was a revelation. One guy there heard SuBo singing How Great Thou Art and immediately piped up: "She must be talking about the paintwork on they holy pictures."
The clincher was the bit where the Pope put on a tartan scarf for his first stint in the Popemobile. A nice gesture, appreciated in a different way by an old boy at the end of the bar. "Brilliant," he said. "I see the big man's a fan o’ the Bay City Rollers".Cue loadsalaughter Ye cannae beat the Scottish welcome.
Amen to that.

Radio Times Great Summer Quiz

For all my Twitter pals.
Here is how I fared.



Who Wants To Be A Millionaire - 9/12
Eggheads 4/7
Question Of Sport 5/10
Counterpoint 6/10
Mastermind 3/10
101 Ways To Leave a Gameshow 6/12
Antiques Master 4/10

Round Britain Quiz- Don't understand cryptic questions never mind answer them.
Countdown-Can't think at speed due to lost brain cells after a lifetime of booze

All in all a truly shite performance.
I used to be much better at quizzes and had a good general knowledge. Now my mind is too fuzzy.
The ravages of age indeed.

AA Gill on Peter Alliss From Sunday Times

I never watch golf, but I looked in at the end of the whatever-it-was in
Scotland last Sunday, where they play for a Victorian custard boat. It
really is spectacularly dull as a spectator sport. It might be like an
afternoon in Hugh Hefner’s den to play, but watching it is abysmal.

I understand that failing to pick up the nuanced incremental excitement and
balletic elegance of the game is entirely my loss and that many of you will
have been utterly enraptured by the gay parade of the most embarrassingly
dressed men in the world. Tell me honestly, do you golf chaps really look at
this stuff and think: “I wonder where he got his short-sleeved nylon shirt
with the logos from?” Or: “Wow! A ginger ponytail with a baseball cap. Cool
look.”

Leaving that aside, I’d never actually come across Peter Alliss before. Oh, my
word! Obviously, I’d heard of him. He’s been around since before
gutta-percha. He probably invented the caddy. But I’d never actually had the
singular experience of having to listen to him. Has he always talked like
that, or is this some charitable dotage thing, poor old chap? Because Alliss
is by far, far and away, by a good 30ft chip out of a bunker for a birdie,
the worst sportscaster I have ever come across, ever, and that’s a crowded
field. He just meanders off on some embarrassing private stream of
consciousness about sunsets and ooh girls these days and that’s just the
sort of game it is and there’s a magic here and look at that sunset and the
old ways weren’t all bad you know, and if I had time I could tell you a
thing or two about Oofy Prosser. And would you look at that, and did I
mention the sunset and those girls? It was like listening to a toby jug have
a stroke. There was an excoriating provincial primness and a repressed
snobbery to it all, and it went on and on. Alliss must be able to clear a
clubhouse bar over a single gin and tonic.

What was unintentionally funny is that this emetic stream of Pringle was so
hideously like a minor character in PG Wodehouse. It seems somehow ironic
that Alliss was burbling on just as Jonathan Ross was departing. I
understand that the Venn diagrams of fans of Ross and Alliss are probably
circles that never overlapped, but it has to be said that Ross is a terrific
broadcaster and a terrible loss to the BBC; and Alliss, well, Alliss isn’t.

...............................................

Pablo says-:
I feel as if I have detested Peter Alliss since the beginning of time.
The man is a demented snob and has been for years.He always spoils the BBC golf coverage with his ramblings.