"...and the winner of Best British Male Solo Artist goes to....MARK RONSON!"
WHAT?!
MARK "BLOODY" RONSON?!
Two days later I'm still coming to terms with the result. I personally felt that Ronson's output this year was a bit tepid and stale, and my output was full of vitality. I didn't even get a shout in the 'Outstanding Achievement' category. Paul McCartney was deemed more worthy than me. Maybe next year perhaps...if I get Phil Collins 'sorted out' of course!
The after show parties were fantastic of course. First stop was my annual pilgrimage to Paul Hardcastle's '19' themed party. We were all instructed to speak through the medium of radio. William Gaunt and Billy Pearce were sozzled already, talking about "vietnamese girls being expensive" or something.
Next stop was Amy Winehouse's party. A very dull affair only brightened up slightly by her impromptu dancing
I left not long after this and ended up in a cab having sex. My alcohol and broth intake was off the scale by the time I came round. In an alley north of Chiswick.
I had less than a day to recover before my mate Bruce Forsyth's 80th birthday bash at the Dorchester.
I arrived early to avoid disappointment. It was a huge function room lavished with pictures of suicide all around the room. The food was equally lavish...sausages on sticks, cheese & pineapple, Pringles, and a favourite of mine...Tesco value cheese & chive dip.
I was only alone for a few hours when the hoares and hordes started to turn up. The cream of the entertainment industry, and the sour cream. Freddie Starr, Josie Lawrence, Michael Aspel, the cast of Crossroads, Yoffi, the ghost of Frank Muir, Suzanne Dando, Paul Shane, Jeffrey Holland, Bill Treacher, Dev Sagoo, Dinah Sheridan, and Dame Kiri Te Kanawa were present amongst many others. Entertainment was provided by impressionist Mark Walker, comedy act The Krankies, rock band Slipknot, and the ghost of Paul Daniels doing his usual conjuring trickery.
Bruce gave a wonderful speech at the end. Educating all of us about the perils of showbiz, as well as the growth of the economy since Stu Francis was privatised.
I ended up playing kiss chase with Sarah Kennedy, Billy Pearce (we exchanged knowing glances), Nick Berry, Paul J. Medford, and Letitia Dean.
I won of course with 47 kisses, 2 humps, and 7 sexual acts
I'm off to have a well deserved rest before Greggles's Scalextric party tonight. Let's hope he remembers the live ants this time!
Thanks for all of your special messages....it's a joy to get sexual gratification from them at this time of year...Mum has used them too.
Talking of Mum, she returns to the asylum later this week. She's currently helping me wipe all of the Beef Stock/Spittle/Vimto from the ceilings after such an amazing season.
TONY'S FAVOURITE PRESENTS LIST
1 x TimeWindow&trade (from Sir Lord Jesus Christ...a brilliant time travel present...I'll go into this a bit more later!)
1 x 'My Wookie Booky Wook' by Justin Lee Collins & DLT (given to me by 'Dirty' Uncle Barry)
1 x Blank DVD, so I can put ANYTHING on it! (from Greggles)
1 x Parsnip, carved into the shape of a penis (given to me by Mum)
1 x Anthea Turner Pinata (a gift from the local Womens Institute)
2 x copies of 'Cliff at Christmas' (from Matthew Crees)
1 x Ronco 'Beard-O-Matic', a beard twizzler that's rechargable (from the cast of BBC TV's 'Home Again')
1 x PP7 Pistol, a nice new gun to shoot birds with...yummy scrummy! (a gift given by Dame Sally Western MBE)
I looked over at the golden clock....9:44pm....should be here now...then...i hear a laughter so sweet, so clean of face, that it almost removes my trousers as if by Magic. My ears follow the seductive cackle (the rest of the face follows too) through the Kings Cross crowds....and there striding towards me is the one...the ultimate kiss....and here it comes...i lean in, grabbing a good palmful of buttock in the process...tongues so silky and loose...
The Fireman's outfit just tops it off for me...Alan Davies really is an amazing kisser, and a true sexual dynamo waiting to be unleashed on my well oiled hairy torso..
I reach down and slide my hand into his...
"TONY!!!!"
"TONY!!! WAKE UP!!!!"........."SNAP OUT OF IT!!!!!!"
As I looked up my eyes focused on a rather portly gentleman...stubble...with a vague stench of alcoholism... The child on his knee went flying, and I couldn't help feeling sorry for the child's parents...
"Is that woman anything to do with you?" he pointed
I looked over towards the centre of the shopping centre atrium. To my horror, Mum was forcing her wrist shackles into the mouth of an unsuspecting man...although I liked his shiny leather jacket it has to be said. I ran over and had to pull her away. The man was obviously upset and distressed so much, that he threatened me with his shoes. Luckily for us, he recognised me from my days of hosting Crackerjack. With a tear in my eye I handed over my final Crackerjack pencil. He ran off giving it 'all the mouth' to his friends. I cried. Mum has a habit of doing this...she once tried to force the jaws open of a real dwarf in Sainsburys....I had to pose for nearly 2 hours for photos and autographs as an apology. I even had to punch Linda Barker just because the store manager told me too....dark days it has to be said.
I ended up having to drag mum through the shopping centre, stopping occasionally to punch anyone offering us a new credit card. Before you all start complaining to Points Of View...when I say 'drag' my mum, I mean drag her as in pull Mum on her skateboard. She stands on her skateboard whilst I pull her shackle chain. It's a system designed by Little & Large back in the days when Eddie Large had his 'problem'. Sid never made any money out of it sadly...
Things went quite smoothly after this incident. Mum was quite happy to wave at other customers passing by...although occasionally trying to pinch children's sweets and pensioners hats. Nothing too stressful thankfully.
But then...disaster...without thinking I hastily pulled up outside a branch of 'Mogadishu Meats'. Their window was displaying a teasing selection of chilled Ant meat, and savoury starburst-flavoured pork trumpets...I salivated so much my trousers moistened. Whilst this was going on Mum's skateboard had kept rolling...and gathering speed at an "alarming pace" according to the widow of the poor chap who jumped over the balcony to avoid her...
The local newspaper article on the incident reads thus;
"Mrs. Rudd (76), a professional fruitcase, was skateboarding through the top floor of the shopping centre (although banned by the centre since 1988's dreadful 'Andy Crane' incident) when she inadvertently rode it down an escalator, thus gathering more speed. Mrs. Rudd was apparently oblivious to her speed, and her danger to others, waving at small children...putting two fingers up at the now chasing staff and angry mob.
Once Mrs. Rudd hit the ground floor (after an E.T. style jump according to witnesses), she was allegedly travelling at 37mph. She then proceeded to plow through a queue of Turkey buyers at Dewhursts...customers including Mrs. E. Whitmarsh, Mr. T, Geoffrey Wheeler, Kenny Lynch (RIP), and 'the unknown shopper'...
Mrs. Rudd then left the complex for the impending danger of a Christmas shopper filled high street. What happened next was "pure bad luck" according to eye-witnesses...
According to bystander Peter Cetera, some sort of chain or rope device managed to ensnare itself on an overtaking bus. Mrs. Rudd was now attached, and gathering more speed as the bus accelerated out of town...
Peter Dominics, conductor of the 37 bus, attempted to help the lady by pulling the chain in, so he could pull her onto the ever accelerating bus. In a moment of sheer confusion however, Mrs. Rudd decided to bite the man's hand clean off, thus foiling the helpful man and his brave rescue attempt. However...the bus then made a sharp right hand turn, thus Rudd's momentum was thrown across a busy A-road into the entrance doors of 'Rachel's Rollarena', a roller skating complex for the hard of hearing and partially blind.
Once Mrs. Rudd had plowed down a further 33 victims (thus becoming the town's worst post-war disaster), she flew out of the fire exit to a strategically-placed Dukes of Hazard-style ramp... "YEEEEEEEEEEE HAAAAA!!!!!!!" could be heard emitted from the now excited lady as she flew across the motorway towards an impending crash land in a trampoline factory.
It took an industrial-sized net and 4 hours to finally trap Mrs. Rudd. Medics on the scene described Mrs. Rudd's condition as "windswept, yet excited" and they were encouraged by her continual 'whoops' and 'screeches'
Next of Kin, her son Tony who happens to be a well-known celebrity, was found in an inebriated state outside a meat traders establishment. He had spent the time testing 'alcoholic turkey stock' according to the store manager. When asked to comment on the incident he was reported to say he was "concerned about his mothers plight", and congratulated the emergency services on their "quick and tasty response".
Funerals for 7 of the victims will be held on Boxing Day. The Queen will be represented by The Duke and Duchess of Kent, and the Rudd family will be represented by former Hollyoaks star, Paul Danan."
When we finally arrived home, Mum smacked me and sent me to bed with no Cup-a-soup to show for it. I was upset...until I noticed that a Romanian man had hidden in my bed for some reason. The sex made up for it I must say...
Merry Christmas
Tony and Mum x
Currently
listening
:
Going to a Party
By
Black Lace
Release date: 24 January, 2001
Yes people. It's that time of year again (it goes so quick doesn't it?) when Mum gets released from her special hostel and pays a visit to her favourite son Tony.
This year I've thought ahead and purchased some "extra-thicky" padding for the walls. 'Bulimia Green' was the colour that caught my eye this year...beating off 'Poncey Yellow' and 'Newsround Brown'. Texas Homecare really know how to lay it on thick with the colours of this stuff. In the days back in '71 when I thought I was a Vacuum Cleaner you just didn't get this sort of choice....it was either 'Black', 'Radar Black', or 'Silly Putty'. Anyone else remember those? ...why not write in to the usual address? You may even win a Crackerjack pencil!
Another prudent move this year is the purchase of a dozen Ramshackle chains. Last year mum kept escaping her captivity to go through my kitchen drawers and cupboards. I didn't mind that much, it's just that when she found my stash of crudely cut-out pictures of Yvette Fielding, I just didn't know where to look! I mean...it was my own mum discovering them! ...not some filthy whore I'd pulled off the street or anything. Ramshackles it is. I just pray the Government lifts the ban on the 'Razorblade Cuff' versions that I've imported by next week!
Now then...X-F***or
Sorry to have to bring this up guys...but as you all know I was planning an assault on the Christmas charts this year from last January. Many of you wonderful people got involved by creating petitions...signing petitions...making myspace groups...making facebook groups...having sex with pensioners to raise awareness (and their jolly spirits so I hear!)...and above all just BEING there with me on the whole thing. Well, there'll be no single for this year at least...but I urge you all to support this one instead...
It has a decent chance of a good chart showing this year. So go Ruddfans....go and create some HELL out there!
Any Hellraisers left? You could always join my POKEMOB if you wish. You have to be a member of facebook for starters...and secondly be a friend of mine. Once you've done this all will be revealed...except my testicles of course, and yes things are on the mend thankyou for asking.
Finally my good friends...I have been doing a spot of nocturnal Ornithology this week. The art of Birdwatching at night. Some friends of mine (including Patrick Moore, Steve McFadden, Patsy Palmer, Ringo Starr, and Ray Brooks) popped over during the week for one of these parties that seems to be the current trend. I even let Paul Coia out of his cupboard for a few hours to have a look. The parties themselves were invented by Grilldorf, a shetland Pony from Wellingborough. Now as Shetland ponies can't talk, we can only assume what you have to do. The most popular take on this is to provide your guests with a telescope each and point them in the general direction of sleeping birds. Each guest then has to take turns in mentioning the type of bird they have just seen in the darkness, although parties held in Kent may apparently use the term "make and model" of bird so I hear. At my soiree, Patsy Palmer was the first to score a "chirp" with her 'Filth Woodpecker'. Duran Duran's John Taylor quickly followed on with his 'Askwith Robin', apparently perched on the edge of its nest due to a flood.... Ringo scored the highest "chirp" of the evening with his delightful spotting of a 'Sexual Nightingale', "looking pretty lush in all its glory" according to the tubthumping Beatle...it went on for another 7 hours...
Unfortunately, the night ended on a sour note...Steve McFadden was found guilty of "false chirping". A term used when one player spots 'fake' birds...swears...or uses the word 'Jehovah' in casual conversation. It's fair to say that Steve, usually a man of good character, overstepped the line...and took it upon himself to use all 3 errors. Upon finding this out obviously I was furious! "Get away with you ruffian!!!" I shout at the pint-sized Eastender... "Naff off Charlie!" retorts the cockney sparra
Naturally, I could stomach this behaviour no more. With a sharp twist, I pull down the cockney's trousers and drag him to my new plastic front door (£89.99 Texas Homecare...good value) 'Home To Roost' star Reece Tinsdale opened the door whilst I threw out the rootin' tootin' cheatin' cockney pot of toss...I then threw out his Chopper...
"I'm off to vandalise the Blue Peter garden again you SLAGS!!!" shouted the cockney whilst mounting his bicycle. He rode off to cheers from the hearth, and we celibrated by eating a souffle of Fois Gras and Partridge pie.
Firstly, a mention to a legend who has sadly departed.
Not long after I met up with him on my Cornwall tour, Anton Rogers has sadly died. I don't think his involvement in my blog had anything to do with it, but Police are running tests. Another star of the Ruddblog--, John Alford, is not dead quite yet...but obviously I will keep you informed if he does indeed die.
Secondly, a big thankyou to all of you who have paid alot of money to come and see my gig tonight. I'll be hitting the stage at the O2 Arena once Led Zeppelin finish their set. Being the headline act tonight will certainly have its challenges, but I'm looking forward to them. There has been many rumours going around the internet, that Jimmy Page is to join me back onstage for a cover of 'Holiday Rock (Hi-De-Hi theme tune)'. I can confirm this to be true, only Jimmy has a habit of screwing up the middle-eight. Let's hope he gets it right tonight eh?! Now...being a gig with Led Zeppelin I tryed to make them feel relaxed and nerve-free in supporting the mighty Tony Rudd. To make them feel at home, I threw a Ferguson TX Telly at Robert Plant, then thrust a nice portion of Halibut down John Paul Jones's trousers...
The first punch-up of the day took place
Apparently the 'zep were unhappy that I'd chosen Halibut and lost their temper in "a moment of madness". Seeing that I didn't want to lose my support act...Sir Jonathan quickly popped out to Billingsgate Market to grab a few rollmops. We laughed together in a very Rock 'n' Roll way...Jones put the Rollmops 'away', and we sat down on the floor drinking Tizer (Zeppelin traditionally always ask for 16 bottles of Tizer before gigs).
If any of you fancy coming backstage afterwards, then mind your head. The O2 arena is shaped like a dome...so the further towards the wall you walk...the more chance of hitting your head on it.
Don't die of ignorance.
Tony x
Currently
listening
:
Whole Lotta Sha-Na-Na
By
Sha Na Na
Release date: 11 November, 1997
Firstly, for those of you concerned about my prison sentence. I had a whale of a time, I got to meet Bert 'Bones' McTrott, Alan 'Trumbone' Sally (a new jailbird there), and Lady Harriet Brown-Penney amongst others. Remember...I was only sentenced to 4 weeks, so I didn't get a chance to have many sexual relations unfortunately, but thanks for your numerous gifts. Mrs G. Findus of Grimsby sent me 12 hacksaws "to het out of jail". If you're reading this Mrs. Findus, what does "het" mean? I spent 3 1/2 weeks trying to work it out. Eventually I gave up.
I was released early yesterday morning. A decoy Tony Rudd was deployed at the prison gates to confuse the paparazzi whilst I scaled over the wall to freedom. I was a bit upset that my SWAG bag and striped jersey were stained in the process. Guess I'll just have to live with that.
The eagle-eyed amongst the press noticed that my decoy was not a very good one. Very true I have to say. Sir Jonathan thought it would be a good idea to employ a fellow singer as a decoy to fool the masses. After numerous auditions, former Grange Hill & London's Burning actor/singer John Alford was chosen. Alford apparently burst into his reggae version of 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes' as soon as the prison gates opened. This only managed to fool The Sun newspaper apparently.
This morning I'm trying to get myself back in the swing of things. Sir Jonathan has booked me into a relatively light job this afternoon, the grand opening of a new branch of Lassiters in Basingstoke. Pop along if you fancy it, should be a lot of fun.
Well, must dash, I have a pot of broth on the stove
Some of you have been asking about my mini tour of Cornwall last week. For those of you who couldn't attend, it went very well thankyou. My support acts were folk-punk duo Foster & Allen, and punk-folk stridebreaker Matthew Wilder. All 7 gigs went swimmingly which included a 7 hour set on the beach at Mullion Cove. All 9 people that attended agreed that it was the best gig they'd ever seen. Obviously both dogs who attended didn't have the right to an opinion so stayed silent.
As some of you know already, I was locked in a toilet near Newquay for 2 whole days during this stint. I'm not sure what happened exactly, but I'm pretty sure that my understudy Paul Danan had something to do with it. Sir Jonathan had to find a strong horse locally to pull the door right off...
After 3 hours of being dragged by a Shire horse towards Bristol, I felt that the joke had run its course. The rope had got caught around my ankles, and my dress had been dragged over my head rendering me unable to see. I never knew that horses could reach the speed of 54mph...but I certainly know now! The rescue package came in the form of former May To December actor Anton Rogers. Anton took it upon himself to ride his new motorcycle alongside my prone and powerless body, and kick at my ankles violently to free me from the ropes. Thankfully...after approximately 55 kicks...the rope freed, and 'Colin' the horse galloped off into the horizon Bristol-bound...
"Come on!" screamed the former TV heart throb..."hop on the back and I'll get you over to my studio" Hop I did...as one of my ankles was now broken. Rogers rode me like a dirty whore to a place called Polyphant (I've checked on my IBM computer recently, and yes it does exist) and sat me on a creamy coloured sofa. Anton dived into a drawer and threw me a skipping rope. Once I'd untangled it from around my dusty neck, I was asked to skip with it... "why?" I cried "We are filming the new Fresh Fields titles" says Rogers excitedly, "Julia McKenzie has had to attend a radio interview in Swindon so you'll have to do. It's for YouTube" Anton then threw me his 'special' Mick Robertson/Leo Sayer wig and pointed a gun at me... "PUT IT ON PUNK! PUT IT ON AND SKIP LIKE A BITCH!" he shouted! I was scared, yet lightly aroused...I hopped up and did as I was told, for fear of being an ingredient in one of Anton's famous 'Facial Pies'.
I hope you all enjoy it...because I can't...it's tainted me. Just appreciate the hard work and sheer grit that went into it...
As most of you know...recently I hosted a 'Paint Tony Rudd' Competition. The entries have been excellent so far. These include an oil painting, crayons, gravy (!), and a t-shirt....
I'm going to extent the competition for a little longer as I've had a portrait sent to me by Mrs V. Atkinson of Derby.
She has used a rather interesting method of painting, to which I am unfamiliar. It is caled "twart"
Therefore...I am keeping the competition open for a while longer. So twart away girls! (and boys i suppose, although you'll have to borrow someone elses mimsy)
Thanks to all for attending the 'Beats International Memorial Concert' over the water in Bangladesh.
For those that are interested...the band Beats International came back from the dead to perform their No.1 hit 'Dub Be Good To Me', as well as a blistering cover of Bill Tarmey's 'Wind Beneath My Wings (Clare Rayner Mix)'
At 11:01pm the band died again...R.I.P.
My set started late due to a points failure at Honor Oak Park. Once I got going there was no stopping. I opened with 'You Fat Headed Twat', just to get that moshpit swinging a bit...'You Are The Pineapple', 'Brayyks Unskippable', 'No Way, No Way', and 'Snorting Oxo' followed in quick succession. Once I'd completed my 40 minute piccolo solo I felt that I should leave the stage...so that my fans could spend time and reflect on what they'd just heard. I returned to do 'Machadaynu', 'Tarvu! Tarvu! Tarvu!', and a cover of the Black Eyed Peas track 'Dont Funk With My Heart'
A good time was had by all, and with only 3 deaths it proved a great festival.
aroused
handsome
horny
gallant
bitchy
flirty
sore
nauseated
shocked
quixotic
