Despite everyone's pleas, Marcosy refuses to post his Farah Fawcett story (although to be honest, have you seen her lately? I'd be frightened too). He's gone a bit shy (cue "aaaaaaahs"); if he was a four year old kiddy he'd be doing that thing where they bury their head in mummy's leg when introduced to a strange elderly relative.
Anyway, I coaxed Marcosy into emailing me the infamous story, which I reproduce faithfully and with his full approval here:
"I wouldn’t know what to write really. I was 10 and so super cute that one of the world’s most beautiful women (she’d just left Charlie’s Angels at the time and it was before she had all that Son’a face-stretching plastic surgery) just had to give me a big snog and my life has been down hill ever since. If you could turn that into a decent post you’re quite welcome to."
So there you have it. I'm not quite sure that I've turned it into a decent post... more like I cut and pasted it from an email, but whadya gonna do about it, huh? Oh, and if you're wondering, he didn't just bump into her in the high street; he knew someone whose dad was working on a film she was in and he wangled a set visit. OooooOOOOOoooo!
Anyone else like to share a celeb snog story? And I mean real life, not your sordid dreams.
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8 comments:
No celeb snog stories. But the Toronto Film Festival is starting this week, and I've just moved in and have plenty of time on my hands...a girl can have (sordid) dreams, can't she?
She can dream... OR, she can get herself down to the Toronto Film Festival and start scouting for stars!
I don't think a lady should kiss and tell.
I am of course referring to Dinah because I ain't no lady....but the story I have is not even worth repeating. I mean it, it's crap.
Dora. Dooooooooora. Dora. We're all friends here.
I'm listening.
Thanks Frasier, but getting your arse squeezed by a football player and the words "hey baby" in your ear do not make for a good celebrity snog story.
It's just a creepy story that ends with Dora saying "Hey baby get your hands off me, you ass-hat" and perhaps glove slappings could have ensued.
No, actually that is a bit disheartening.
You should've turned into a southern belle, thrown your gloves on the ground, clasped your hands to your bosum, and gasped "waaaah sir, you disrespect me greatly!"
Then round-housed him.
...and he did disrespect me greatly. There are alot of things I should have done, but I think this time I just told him to fuck off.
Precise and to the point.
I like it!
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