Doubious claims to fame

#1
Just watching the Six Nations with the family and Jeremy Guscott came on.I stated that ,when I lived in Spain,I built an extension on a swimming pool in a villa that he used when he holidays in Spain.There was a tumble weed moment at this statement which wasnt helped when I said that Guscotts mother also used my shop to make phone calls to the U.K.

Can any one beat this sad claim to fame?
 
#2
Yes. My sister is Leona Lewis's Godmother. Genners.
 

BiscuitsAB

LE
Moderator
#3
My Old man discovered Kriss Akabusi's talent for running and was his first coach. I regularly had to give up my bedroom and sleep on the floor in my brothers room. Also we used to play pick up sticks with lollipop sticks and I declare Aki to be a cheating bastard who owes me a re-match from 1978.


edit. And yes actually I can hold a grudge over something so trivial for so long.
 
#5
I'm possibly the last white man to be born in Handsworth, Birmingham (1954)!
 
#6
Not me, but one of my mates wellied Katona so hard from behind that her nose bled. The gopping pig that she is.

Sent from my GT-I9100 using Tapatalk
 

jarrod248

LE
Gallery Guru
#7
Tommy Taylor the footballer was taken to try out for Barnsley by my Dad. None of his relatives could be bothered to take him and my dad was a couple of years older than him and so took him. If it wasn't for my dad he may still be alive today, he's buried in Monk Bretton cemetery as are many of my relatives. Oh and my Dad used to bray Dickie Bird at school.
 
#9
I live round the corner from Gok Wan's godmother! She runs a fancy dress shop!
 
#10
My mate Dave went out with the daughter of Eric Clapton's psychiatrist's under gardener.
 
#11
I worked in London in the 60's and leaned out of the office window and shouted, "Fucking Spangles!" at the Tremeloes as they walked past..... then quickly hid behind a filing cabinet.

Do I win ?
 

chrisg46

LE
Book Reviewer
#17
My aunt invented Bernard Matthews Turkey Drummers.
 
#19
Went to a posh party and started listening to the guitar player in the garden. He was really, very good. I told him so, in fact: "You're very good. You should be in a band" said I.

"I was. The Yardbirds".

It was Jeff Beck.

A few year later I went to another posh party at the Groucho Club. I hated all the cunts there and found a bloke at the bar who was almost as badly dressed and unshaven as I was. Nice chap, so got chatting and bought him a bottle of Rolling Rock.

I asked him what he did for a living. "I'm a musician" he replied. "Well good luck with it, mate", said I, assuming that he busked on the tube or something.

Then after he'd gone, someone told me that he was Neil Young.
 

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