Where There’s Fame There’s A Claim


Like, OMG. WTF. Totes shitballs. I’m one of those women aren’t I? One of those women I bitch about. Who spends her whole life talking about her kids. Well, her whole blog anyway. I’m spending my whole blog talking about my kids. Not that my blog is my life you understand. Hell no. I mean, I have LOADS of other stuff going on outside of the blog thing. Like. Well. Um. Desperate Scousewives on Sky+. My daily Groupon email. Learning to talk ‘street’ (see above). I mean, jesus, I’ve got an appointment with the dental hygienist later. Fullofloadsofexcitingstuff, that’s my life for you.

I’m lying, of course. My life may be full. But of terribly exciting stuff? Not so much. The dental hygienist? Despite me resenting the fact she speaks to me like an 8 year old** and my deep-seated fear of dental floss, I’m actually quite looking forward to my appointment because it means half an hour out of the house and a chance to read the waiting room copy of Grazia. Life wasn’t always so lacklustre though. Shall I tell you my claims to fame? Shall I? (if you’re shouting ‘NO’ at your computer, you should probably stop reading now). Ye-ah boyee. Kid free and all about me, fill yo’ boots:

  • After helping out at The Soap Awards one year (a career high never to be equalled) I challenged Ben Freeman of then-Emmerdale fame to help me start a fight between The Dales and Coronation Street. He seemed up for it but wouldn’t swing the first punch so I think maybe he was just humouring me. At the same party, the man who used to play Mr Cunningham in Hollyoaks (anyone?) climbed onto a speaker and, to a backdrop of Starlight by Supermen Lovers (again, anyone?), took off all his clothes and thrust the bit that most men like to thrust when they are 100% naked until security had to forceably remove him

Mr Cunningham. This man's genitals will stay with me til the day I die. Not literally, of course. That'd be weird

  • I once posed in a women’s magazine with no clothes on. It was an article about body issues, was tastefully done and motivated by the sole fact I got fifty quid for it. Because of this, I then appeared on GMTV with daytime TV’s queen of condescension, Lorraine Kelly, who conducted an in-depth discussion with me and a plus-size model on body dysmorphia. I like to think the fact our chat only lasted 5 minutes and was preceded by a performance of Celebration by Kool and the Gang didn’t deter from the seriousness of the subject…
  • I used to write mucky sex stories for a national magazine. You know those ‘and then he put his spanner down and shagged me up against the dishwasher’ real-life confessions? Very much not real. Ditto the letters page
  • I once gave Pat Sharp an antihistamine and then took that as an open invitation from him to me to go on a massive rant about how much I hated Dr Fox. Shortly after I rounded up my ten-minute diatribe with ‘I mean, he’s not even a real doctor’, Pat Sharp revealed that while Dr Fox may indeed not be a qualified member of the medical profession, he was in fact his daughter’s godfather
  • For whatever reason, most probably as a result of me lying my face off, I once ended up on some PR lists as the editor of the magazine I worked on, rather than the lowly editorial assistant I actually was. As a result of my bullshitting, I got invited to the re-launch of Stringfellows and, after drinking a lot of free wine, me and my mate ended up sat atop a motorbike with Stringy himself. ‘Come on girls, mount the Harley’ he said. No word of a lie, that’s what Peter Stringfellow actually said. FUCK. ING. AWESOME.

If loving him is wrong, I don't want to be right

Of course, based on the Stepford circles I find myself moving in these days, I’m not really meant to admit all of the above and, even if I do, it’s supposed to be done in an ironic-roll-the-eyes-‘ha-I-used-to-think-this-kind-of-shit-meant-something’ way, whilst simultaneously professing my spiritual awakening to the really important stuff in life. Like, you know, Boden, pilates, PTA committee meetings… If truth be told though, just like X Factor, Beyonce’s bumpwatch and Teen Mom on MTV, I love the trashy stuff today as much as I did pre-kids and nothing gets me more giddy than another person’s tale of a time they met a celebrity. That’s your cue – dish it. Give me gossip. The grubbier, the better.

**Hygienist: So now I’ve shown you how to brush properly, we’ll all be happy bunnies at the next appointment, yeah?

Me: #looking behind me for the toddler I presume she’s addressing# Sorry?

H: YEAH! Cool bananas! #goes to high five me#

M: Can we not do that please

P.S. I’m tucking it down the bottom because I feel a bit of a knob about it and everything but I’m now on Twitter. I don’t know if it’s the website for me, I’m not convinced it’ll catch on…Anyway, should you be also on Twitter and would like to make an old woman happy, give me a little tickle or whatever it is they call it. A twickle? I have no idea. http://twitter.com/#!/upyoursginaford

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27 thoughts on “Where There’s Fame There’s A Claim

  1. northernmum says:

    I am impressed, my claims to fame are tiny, I once sat behind fergie at euro Disney ( pre toe licking days) I have drank with Paul shane (hi de hi) and my son has smashed an egg over Mr tumbles head.

    I am going to the x factor on Sunday……

  2. Fiona says:

    Hysterical. I once went drinking with Chrissie Hynde (of the Pretenders) and got into a drunken (me, not her) aguement about Madonna. She won. I’ve also (literally) bumped into Liza Minelli and was so shocked at how good she looked I think I mumbled something very lame like ‘wow, I love you’ She was very gracious and said ‘thank you, darling’ But, my proudest moment was knocking on Take That’s dressing room door (using my I work in this theatre clout) and demanding to meet them, in a very polite, nice, slightly crazed, fan kinda way! They obliged. I obviously revisit this memory quite a lot!!! Not as grubby as Mr Holyshit-oaks but that’s all I got. Enjoyed reading this a lot x

    • that’s amazing on all counts. AMAZING. nothing beats a brassy fan – I think famous people feel they have to be obliging in instances like that, mainly because they’re a bit scared you might be a nutcase and they want to get you out in the nicest way possible? and of course I mean that in the very nicest way possible x

      • Fiona says:

        Ofcourse, ofcourse. To prove my non-nutcase status. I have ‘famously’ ignored famous people too. Like the time Alfie Boe asked to borrow a chair and left chair-less. And, my fav snub was when one of The Manic Street Preachers wanted to sit next to me and I politely told him to sod off! But, admittedly I’ll remember these moments forever and they’ve obviously forgotten them instantaneously! X

  3. I licked Kevin Spacey. *wanders off in mysterious manner*

  4. Sarah Miles says:

    Love it.

    I used to be the hostess with the mostess (i.e. I checked people in and took their coats) in a restaurant in Islington that was the Ivy of the 80s (apparently). However, it was the 90s, but I still ushered George Michael (with Pepsi & Shirlie), Charlene Spiteri and Julian Clary to their tables. Plus a few more 80s celebs.

    Apart from that my only claim to fame is the minor stalking of Ben Fogle on Twitter….

    p.s. – I reckon you look a bit like Sally Phillips on your photo – which is a good thing! had you down as a brunette……not sure why!

    • Twitter stalking totally classes as a proper real life relationship in my mind. Consequently, congrats to you and ben and thank you for the sally phillips reference. I’ll very happily take that

  5. Sarah Miles says:

    Ooh – and I used to teach Anthony Worrall Thompson’s son…but I’m not sure I want to brag about that…

  6. Hysterical, heart-warming, life-affirming post, as ever. I have a women’s sixth sense that you and I have danced on the same dance floor somewhere in our pasts. Metaphorically if not literally. Although probably literally too. Welcome to Twitter, too. I’m not finding it my natural milieu but trying to keep it up. And sorry so lame… Advocaat is obviously in a snowball. My eyes feel like they’re filled with grit tonight and I have done exactly none of the work I was meant to do. Something has gone horribly wrong and our baby is still up. She has just sent a Tweet on my husband’s iPhone. Her first. Will have to put it in the baby record book. Which I haven’t bought yet. Have a look at PeanutFreeMom on Twitter when you get a second. Always makes me snort with laughter. Good night. Keep up the good work.

    • That’s one of the nicest things anyone wrote, ever. Thanks. Sorry things went a bit wrong. If it’s any consolation, my son’s currently in bed with me while I check emails on my phone. My husband got lucky with the spare bed. Fun times. Fun. Times. Here’s hoping we share the dancefloor again sometime

  7. ATO Mum says:

    Was just blogging the other day about how exceedingly dull my celebrity encounters have been – yours are definitely more exciting! Although, I’ve just remembered in my ushering encounters once meeting Shane from Neighbours (remember him?!) which is a new low even for me!

    • Remember him? Hell yes I do – he did panto near us when I was a kid and, randomly, my mum and I ended up in the local papers after a bizarre incident where he accused of us of trespassing on the driveway of his rented house and my mum bollocked him for being so precious and suggested he remembered who got him to where he was (panto in stockport) in the first place. True bloody story. Loving our shane from neighbours link

  8. Expat Mammy says:

    wow my only claim to famer is that my nan was on ibiza uncovered!!!

  9. Hannah says:

    When I was a bouncer (now there’s a opener you don’t get on mumsnet everyday) I escorted the Fun Lovin Criminals to their tour bus after a concert where I had to throw the crowd surfers back into the crowd. Can’t remember what was said but I did get to have a whole conversation with Huey on the way. Lame claim, but thought the bouncer bit worth getting in. Maybe I’ve thrown you out of a party for misbehaviour?!

  10. Older mum says:

    Brilliant !!!! Really funny ….. Mr Cunningham ….. Really? Did he have a big knob, apart from the fact he was acting like one. My claim to fame, and I don’t think it really is one was that I was mentioned by Carl Cox once on radio one (I used to be a DJ – a very long time ago!).

    • for a codger, it was quite big. although that implies old men have small penises, which in turn suggests I have enough experience of seeing old men’s cocks to come to this conclusion. that is very much not the case. I think I’ll stop talking now…
      your claim to fame is very impressive – totally puts my schtick to shame!

  11. You’re so funny! I have no claim to fame at all. I totes prefer to keep it that way unless it involves snogging Olly Murs……but that is never going to happen! x

  12. Another ace post from the gal with the best blog name ever! Am thinking I have a similar editorial / meeja background to you, so lots of potential claims. But probo my fave is that I was featured on the Channel 4 news several *ahem* years back, as a fashion student, head to toe in mermaid style body paint, with only a thong for warmth. Was mortified when a couple of years after said appearance, my Granddad pulled out a video recording of it to proudly show extended family I’d not seen in years. Cue instantaneous blushes.

  13. I am gutted those mucky sex stories aren’t real……but on the plus side, I absolutely wet myself at the mental image of Mr Cunningham’s thrusting dong and you having a rant to Pat Sharp!

  14. […] coming or how long it had been before I last bleated on about getting tanked up on boozy Vimto / Peter Stringfellow’s motorbike / KirstiefuckingAllsopp. But you know what, if it helps or matters or makes anyone feel even a […]

  15. […] mounting a Harley Davidson for Peter Stringfellow and giving Pat Sharp and antihistamine are all claims to fame by one blogger, a blogger who goes by the name of UpYoursGinaFord. The blog name alone commands a […]

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