Ra Fame!
Monday 8:45 p.m.
So I'm going passed these hoardings on George Street, which are blocking off part of the pavement, when who is suddenly hoving into view and quickly going passed but Gordon Strachan. (He is the manager of the Glasgow Celtic Football Club for those not fortunate enough to be Scottish). As he was going by, I exclaimed: Wow! Gordon Strachan! and clapped my hands. He said: Hi! and then his head disappeared behind me.
Who'd want that, eh? Any nutter can jump out at you and do anything because you're famous. Say hullo, or shoot you. Worse still! With Gordon Strachan it'll be football supporters, probably drunken Rangers fans wanting to hit him and spit on him, and revile him, and all that. Dearie me!
It's the young girls trying to tear your clothes off that the spam robots are interested in, Hotboy.
So I said to my uncle, Peter Mackenzie, that I didn't want a photie of myself on the cover of the book he was going to publish because I didn't want folk to know who I was. He said: Don't worry, Hotboy. Girls aren't going to be chasing after you and trying to tear your clothes off.
Becoming famous might have it's compensations.
Situations vacant. No. 1. Hut Manager. (see preceding posts!)
No. 2. Famous Author Stand in Person. This is a front man job for a straight ten percent off the top. You have to be available with your body since you will be the photie on the back of the book, do the readings, etc. You walk around being me, more or less.
My chum Poisonous would be very good for this. Peter Lorre from The Maltese Falcon crossed with Truman Capote. And the shrink said he was normal!
The author stand in person will have a uniform. This will be the jimmy wig, the black beard, the Groucho Marx nose and glasses.
Who said franchise? Hut franchise! Author franchise! We're bound to clean up!
22:15 p.m.
True story. Between jobs in schools ... I'm walking down Raeburn Place in the summertime. It's just so nice. Lots of traffic though and the usual doubledecker Edinburgh bus starts to edge passed. Lots of traffic lights on this street. The bus is going to go passed and stop, go passed ... for a bit anyway. I'm feeling very good as I'm walking down the road. I'm attracted to the girls battering the back windows on the top deck at the back of the bus ... a wee bit of St Trinians here maybe ... then I try not to look as it seems they're battering the windows because they recognise me from the old school. I'm trying not to smile or smirk and just get along the road. But the bus goes passed, then stops and I come up to where it's at again. I'm trying not to smile, or give myself away at all. Sometimes I look over and this is very nice this. But I try not to look or be embarrassed. Onwards and the bus stops again and I'm trying not to grin. So I start singing the Mellow Yellow song I heard Donavon do at Brickershaw. "I'm just mad about 14 year old girls and they're just mad about me .. doo waa dooo!" Memories are made of this!
So I'm going passed these hoardings on George Street, which are blocking off part of the pavement, when who is suddenly hoving into view and quickly going passed but Gordon Strachan. (He is the manager of the Glasgow Celtic Football Club for those not fortunate enough to be Scottish). As he was going by, I exclaimed: Wow! Gordon Strachan! and clapped my hands. He said: Hi! and then his head disappeared behind me.
Who'd want that, eh? Any nutter can jump out at you and do anything because you're famous. Say hullo, or shoot you. Worse still! With Gordon Strachan it'll be football supporters, probably drunken Rangers fans wanting to hit him and spit on him, and revile him, and all that. Dearie me!
It's the young girls trying to tear your clothes off that the spam robots are interested in, Hotboy.
So I said to my uncle, Peter Mackenzie, that I didn't want a photie of myself on the cover of the book he was going to publish because I didn't want folk to know who I was. He said: Don't worry, Hotboy. Girls aren't going to be chasing after you and trying to tear your clothes off.
Becoming famous might have it's compensations.
Situations vacant. No. 1. Hut Manager. (see preceding posts!)
No. 2. Famous Author Stand in Person. This is a front man job for a straight ten percent off the top. You have to be available with your body since you will be the photie on the back of the book, do the readings, etc. You walk around being me, more or less.
My chum Poisonous would be very good for this. Peter Lorre from The Maltese Falcon crossed with Truman Capote. And the shrink said he was normal!
The author stand in person will have a uniform. This will be the jimmy wig, the black beard, the Groucho Marx nose and glasses.
Who said franchise? Hut franchise! Author franchise! We're bound to clean up!
22:15 p.m.
True story. Between jobs in schools ... I'm walking down Raeburn Place in the summertime. It's just so nice. Lots of traffic though and the usual doubledecker Edinburgh bus starts to edge passed. Lots of traffic lights on this street. The bus is going to go passed and stop, go passed ... for a bit anyway. I'm feeling very good as I'm walking down the road. I'm attracted to the girls battering the back windows on the top deck at the back of the bus ... a wee bit of St Trinians here maybe ... then I try not to look as it seems they're battering the windows because they recognise me from the old school. I'm trying not to smile or smirk and just get along the road. But the bus goes passed, then stops and I come up to where it's at again. I'm trying not to smile, or give myself away at all. Sometimes I look over and this is very nice this. But I try not to look or be embarrassed. Onwards and the bus stops again and I'm trying not to grin. So I start singing the Mellow Yellow song I heard Donavon do at Brickershaw. "I'm just mad about 14 year old girls and they're just mad about me .. doo waa dooo!" Memories are made of this!
posted by Hotboy at 8:44 PM
7 Comments:
Thank you for explaining Gordon Strachan.
Don't think the young girls won't be chasing after you Hotboy!
I think you will make a great famous person!
Lee Ann: Thanks for this vote of confidence! We had a Monday holiday here, so have good rest of the week! Hotboy
Funnily enough, there were two nubile, well for legal reasons let's say they were 16-year-olds, swimming in the lane beside me last week. Tinted goggles are such a help!
Onan! Tinted goggles, eh? Are you sure you're not going blind yet? Hotboy
What do they say about genius and insanity?
Hotboy you will always be famous around here.
But stay away from 14 year olds or you will get a different kind of fame.
Toyo! I'm not even famous in my own flat!
I say!
How wonderful that the girls were banging on the window at you. This also happened to a distant friend of mine the other day, but in that case, they were trying to attract his attention to the dog poo he was about to tread on.
MM III
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