When I was 13, I got my first real crush. I had to really, I was in the generation of Girl Power – and bands such as Spice Girls, All Saints and B*Witched meant that it was easy for a boy to become a man. However, none of the members of said bands stirred my early teenage giggleberries quite like Billie Piper.
I dunno, it was a hint of rebellious older teenager yet still lovely that caught my eye during her infectious (at the time, now I think it’s vile) song “Because We Want To“, as the years went by she slipped into an older age bracket, with naughty interviews in FHM whereby she revealed she was bi-sexual. As a overly virile 16 and a half year old, she was my dream girl. Slightly posh, minted, and partial to a bit of girl on girl action. However, around this time I started making friends with real girls, Billie knobbed a ginger and went on to appear in Dr. Who, and we went our separate ways.
Whilst myself, Guy and Zandr were walking down to town to help Zandr pick some clothes (though, like asking me for fashion advice is like asking Mahatma Gandhi to be your army general) – there was a large queue formed outside Waterstones. “Wonder who it could be?” we thought – and then (as we are gamblers) wagered. I said “oh, some kid had a Doctor Who book, so I reckon it’ll be the guy who plays Dr. Who”. Turns out it was Billie Piper, who – despite being only 2 years older than yours truly, had her autobiography out. At this point I said to my mates “I’m going to get a picture”, so I peeled off and went into the shop.
At this point I’d like to explain something. Colwyn Bay is completely devoid of anybody that can be called a celebrity. If there are, they’re usually in the Pen-Y-Bryn, whereby Welsh Legend Craig Morgan was in last week, as well as the brother of Colwyn Bay’s defensive rock Neil Coverley. But apart from that, nobody really famous. Hell, by the fact that I walk the streets mean I’m probably the third most famous person you will see on Colwyn Bay’s street at any one time (behind Richard Brunstom, and the guy who has a beard, never washes, draws porn and rides a bicycle). So, with the chance of seeing a real life celebrity and one of my crushes, I thought “fuck it”, skipped the queue, and tried to take a quick picture.
By god you would of thought the Pope was in town. She had a bigger entourage than most rappers. However, using my previously unfounded skills as a paperazzi photogropher, I realised that if I stood on the stairs and took a photo down, I could bypass the bouncers and take a photo.
Or so I thought.
Turned out there was a plain clothed bouncer on the stairs, who made it his sole responsibility to ruin my photo.
That man ruined what love I had for Wiltshire’s finest, and ruined a perfectly good blog article for you. I’m not one to complain, but one picture wasn’t going to hurt anybody – it’s not like I’m jumping around in her face and stuff. Christ, she was going to be there, just didn’t see the point in queuing. In my opinion – asking for a footballer’s or sportsman photo/autograph is rude, because they don’t need to entertain the public for their success. Actors and certain other people in the public eye who need your support (providing your not too much of a dick) should be nice if you ask for a photo/autograph, because they’re success is supported by people like yourself.
Actually, I suppose I should cut Billie some slack, I’m sure she wouldn’t of mind if I got a quick – non intrusive snap of her on a shitty mobile. Oh no, the real sods are the profiteering bastards at Waterstones who have pissed me off twice within the last month (time #1 was when they took over Ottakers in Llandudno – which was ace – and made it shit). A bunch of wankers who are stifling british authors: think about it, if I got a clean shot of Billie, this entry would be so much better, alas – it’s not.
So, in closing, even though I doubt she wrote a single word of it, you can buy Billie Piper’s Book, I’m not going to stop you. However, for my sake, please don’t buy it from Waterstones, they’re utter cunts.
Question: if you wrote an autobiography, what would it be called? Bonus points for titles that are so ambiguous and vague you have no idea who it’s by (as in Ms. Piper’s book – “Growing Pains”. Got fuck all to do with her. Better title would be “Because I Wanted To”, in my opinion).