- It’s a common myth that Bob Holness played saxophone on Gerry Rafferty’s “Baker Street”. The original saxophonist was, of course, then session musician Prince. However, the Blockbusters host did play the clarinet on Chas ‘n’ Dave’s “Snooker Loopy”!
- Metallica’s Lars Ulrich is an avid collector of all things Chris De Burgh. He once paid a massive $32.50 on eBay for the original handwritten lyrics of “Don’t Pay The Ferryman” and often wears the white suit Chris De Burgh wore in the video of “Lady In Red” whilst wandering around his castle in Rotherham.
- Yoko Ono literally means “farting fish” in Japanese!
- Bono and The Edge originally met in a Dublin queue to buy tickets for a Supertramp concert. Bono said, “I love Supertramp, I do.” The Edge replied, “Really, you too?” Bono liked the phrase “You too?” so much, he decided to form a new band right there and then, shortening it to “U2”. At that point, no member of the band could even play an instrument!
- Formed ELO frontman Jeff Lynne is addicted to Pickled Onion Monster Munch. It’s not available in Los Angeles, so he pays for weekly shipments from the factory in Leicester direct to his California mansion. His musical pal Tom Petty has to wear a nose peg when he visits Jeff, as he can’t stand the stink of the niffy fried corn snack!
- Luther Vandross’ real name was Eric Bristow, but he had to change it because there was a professional darts player of the same name. They met to decide who had to change their name to Luther Vandross, but after Eric threatened to bottle the soul legend, Luther agreed that it would be him. The pair never forgot their rivalry and once, when Eric was playing a very important darts match, Luther got very drunk on Diamond White and heckled him all throughout the match. Eric had the last laugh, however, because he won that match comfortably.
- 12-bar legends Francis Rossi and Rick Parfitt of Status Quo once joined Bucks Fizz for a gang bang directly after their Eurovision triumph. When Francis asked Rick which girl he was going to have sexual intercourse with first, he said that he was “Making His Mind Up”. Francis laughed so hard that his nose fell off and then Rick had a heart attack before he could do anything saucy to either of them. It was after this incident that they both became teetotal, born-again Christians. Bucks Fizz, however, still battle their hard drug addictions.
- Most people don’t know that Slade’s Noddy Holder is actually royalty and lies 12th in line to the British throne. His real title is Duke Noddington of Holder and is The Queen’s first cousin. He was actually born and bred in Berkshire, but affects a Wolverhampton accent to further his rock and roll career.
- Crowded House rock star Neil Finn keeps dozens of fully grown pet crocodiles in his twelve bedroom bungalow near Bath to make him feel like he’s back down under. He recently had a scrape with the law when one of them escaped and ate the postman. The antipodean singer got a fine of £100 and was warned not to let his feisty reptiles eat postmen again otherwise the fine would be doubled.
- Parents in the 1980s would have been very surprised to learn who was under the Paul Daniels creation “Wizbit”’s costume. The production staff were sworn to secrecy, but it was none other than grumpy Irish rock and soul sensation, Van Morrison. He even penned the catchy theme tune to the show – “Ha ha this-away, ha ha that-away, ha ha the other way, my oh my”. The royalties for this song alone earned him more money than all of his other songs put together!
- Although blaming ill health, Phil Collins has actually given up his career in music to become a school caretaker. Although he has asked all his friends in the music business to keep it a secret, he can be regularly found spreading sawdust on lumpy schoolboy vomit in a state-run Primary school in Nuneaton. “Beats playing the drums for a living”, he sniffed, before running off to tell a bunch of kids to get the hell off his lovingly-kept flowerbeds.
- Joan Armatrading invented Jeggings. The once popular “Love & Affection” soul singer was watching her grandchildren run around in jeans and had a brainwave that they would be much more comfortable in trousers that looked like jeans but were softer and more flexible, like leggings. One phone call to her niece, Tasmin Archer, who works as Head Of New Clothes in Primark and her invention was on the shop floor within a week. She has been able to retire to Bournemouth on the royalties and has vowed never to sing again.
- Bob Dylan has actually been dead for years. His fourteen wives and seventy-three children cannot survive without his income so, every night, they find a tramp on the street and pay him to pretend to be Bob, so he can stand there drunk in front of the microphone mumbling incoherently while his backing band do all the work. Thankfully, nobody can tell the difference. While he was alive, Bob made an album a week, so there is plenty in the archives to keep the impression of new releases going and his army of fans satisfied.
- Suede’s Brett Anderson is the world record holder for the number of Fox’s Glacier Mints held in his mouth at any one time. In his 2011 world-beating attempt, he managed to cram sixty three of the transparent boiled sweets into his mouth, beating Sir Bob Geldof’s previous record of fifty-four. Bob complained, “It’s not fucking fair, they’re smaller than they used to be. I’d like to see him do it back in nineteen-eighty-fucking-two like I did.”
- Craggy Rolling Stones frontman Mick Jagger claims that the secret of his youthful appearance yet being an octogenarian is sleeping nineteen hours a day. Jagger will often snooze away the whole day, either in bed or his favourite rocking chair. He only wakes to eat, use the bathroom, strut around like a chicken and fornicate. Apart from that, he sleeps the day away. “It’s true”, reported Stones drummer, Charlie Watts, “When we’re on tour, he’s a nightmare. He only gets fifteen hours sleep a day and becomes really cranky.”
- Famous vegetarian Morrissey loves prawns. He eats them all day long and won’t accept that he’s doing anything wrong. When it is pointed out to him that a prawn is an animal, he pouts and tells them that they’re wrong, it’s a vegetable, and that he’s never seen a prawn in a field. When they attempt to explain further, he puts his hands of his ears and shouts, “La la la la! I’m not listening, I’m not listening! La la la la la!”.
- Elton John’s hair is fashioned from the pubic hair of over a thousand Swedish virgins. It cost him over three million pounds and is personally transplanted into his scalp by artist Damien Hirst.
- Pulp frontman Jarvis Cocker suffers from a rare medical affliction which means that whenever he sneezes, he has an orgasm. The young Cocker, son of Sheffield singer Joe, used to sit in class plucking out his nose hairs to make himself sneeze, until he was sent out of class, squirming with ecstasy. He wrote most of his best known songs in that school corridor, including the smash hit, “Help The Aged”.
- Brian Epstein, the manager of The Beatles, is alive, well and living in Scarborough. Racked with the guilt of discovering that he was actually heterosexual, he asked The Fab Four to announce his death so that he could marry his sweetheart, rotund Carry On actress Hattie Jacques, and moved to the seaside Yorkshire town to live a quiet life and to father six children. McCartney sang about Scarborough in his 1979 single, “Old Siam, Sir”. This was a secret reference to spending a happy week there, every year, in the summer holidays with his old friend and manager and their respective families.
- One Direction are the world’s first successful animatronic android band. Programmed to be irresistible to foolish, impressionable teenage girls but incredibly annoying to everybody else, One Direction have become the perfect pop band for evil mastermind Simon Cowell, because he can get them to do whatever he likes and doesn’t even have to pay them. Earlier attempts to form a robotic band failed because each member of Sugababes kept on exploding, with hastily assembled replacements losing them fans each time.
Bono was sad. It had been over twenty-four hours since he had met a world leader and banged on incessantly about ridding the world of poverty. Big Irish tears dripped from his big, Irish eyes as he reclined on his $500,000 antique sofa, lighting his big, fat Cuban cigar with a $100 dollar bill. It was all-too apparent that Bono was going through a mid-life crisis and was worried about growing old and irrelevant. He picked up his diamond-encrusted Motorola and tried to get hold of the Pope, but it rang once and then went straight to voicemail. Bono just knew that his holiness had seen who was calling and rejected it. Either that or he was on the other line to that wanker, Geldof.
“I hate that bastard!” screamed the diminutive front-man, flinging his phone savagely across the room, smashing the arm off the ice sculpture of himself he had made daily, sending shards of ice dancing across the floor of his Dublin castle. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!” he yelled at the top of his voice, then dropped to the floor and pounded the carpet with his little hands and feet until he had no more energy… and had soiled himself. It just wasn’t fair! Unlike Bono, Geldof was ageing gracefully and hadn’t resorted to hair implants, corsets, elevated soles and daily botox. Unlike Bono, Geldof didn’t really sell any albums any more. Unlike Bono, Geldof was well liked and respected by most people, whereas Bono was widely regarded as an annoying twat. Bono just couldn’t understand it.
Just then, the doorbell chimed (it was the opening guitar riff to “Mysterious Ways”). Bono got off the floor, wiped his eyes and one of his seventeen Butlers appeared. “Shall I see who that is, Mr. Bono, Sir?” asked Ponsonby. “Yes, but just let me get into one of my rock-star poses first”, replied Bono, meekly. “Very good, Sir”, muttered Ponsonby and patiently waited for his employer to stuff a few socks into his trousers, place a John Lennon cap on his head, put some ridiculously oversized sunglasses on and then pose like he was playing an invisible accordion. Ponsonby opened the front door and, standing there, were the other three members of U2 – The Edge and the other two who nobody remembers the names of – not even Naomi Campbell and she shagged one of them.
Bono’s Irish eyes were smiling. “The! Larry! Adam! What the feck are you doing here?” The Edge looked serious as he stepped into Bono’s ridiculously lavish home. “Truth is, Bono, we’ve come here to tell you that you’re fired.” Bono’s rock-star pose faded noticeably. His pretend squeeze-box was deflated. “Fired? But why?” The Edge sighed, “Truth is, Bono, everyone thinks you’re a complete twat. Me and the lads do. Your missus does. The rest of the world does. The Pope just called me and asked me if I’d have a word with you to get you to stop calling him. He does have a life outside being The Pope, you know. You keep on interrupting his Texas Hold ‘Em Poker games with your bleating on about making poverty history, like you came up with the bloody idea.” The other two nodded along with The Edge’s assessment sagely.
“I can’t fecking believe what I’m fecking hearing!” spluttered Bono. “Well, that’s the truth.” retorted The Edge. We’ve asked Geldof to front the band. He can’t sing for toffee, but at least some people might respect us again. Sorry.” With this, the three members of U2 turned around and walked out of Bono’s life forever. “Bastards.” pouted Bono, bitterly. Well, this had really messed up Bono’s day, so he did the only thing he possibly could think of to cheer himself up. He put a DVD on of himself pleasuring himself while talking about making poverty history and settled himself down to have a nice, juicy, Irish wank. All Ponsonby could do is to raise one eyebrow, impeccably, and be ready with the tissues. He’d seen all of this before – after all, Bono was a complete and utter tosser.