The message from Gordon the Gopher was abundantly clear: sexually seduce Lorraine Kelly with your penis or face, or face the consequences with your face or penis. I wasn’t quite clear on what those consequences were, but I imagined it was a darn sight worse than licking the porridge-clad labia of a Scottish spinster who […]Read More Richard Madeley – T’autobiography Chapter 73 ‘Lorraine’s Growler’
I’ll be honest, I shit my pants big time. Little did I know that in less than 24 hours I would be dancing naked on top of Lorraine Kelly’s bedside table shouting “I’m a big girth banana, come play with me you massive Scottish twat whore”. Gordon the Gopher, despite being recognised by millions all […]Read More Richard Madeley – T’autobiography Chapter 68 ‘Gordon the Criminal Gopher’
I remember the first time Judy and I tried anal. We did it so much I was sure Judy wouldn’t sit down for a week. But, you know what? She did: she’s a bloody professional. Her stoic willingness to carry on is one of the very few things I admire about Judy. It reminded me […]Read More Richard Madeley – T’autobiography Chapter 53 ‘Anal Jacking’
It was all very intense and, before I knew it, I had ejaculated all over the wall. There I was, Richard Madeley, TV Times television personality of the year 1993, standing naked in a shower with excrement on the floor and semen on the walls. Judy was going to be angry. Really angry (like the […]Read More Richard Madeley – T’autobiography Chapter 46 ‘The Shower’
Picture the scene: it’s the year 2000, I’m on a lads holiday in Magaluf, it’s an obviously classy affair. My plucky friends and I decide to venture to a nightclub hosting a ‘foam’ party. For those who don’t know, foam parties were very popular affairs in the late 90s in which the club vendor would pump […]Read More I’ve Seen the Star Wars Parody: It’s Called ‘The Force Awakens’.
There I was: Camden Jazz Café, hands in pockets, jostling for a clear view of the stage. At intermittent intervals glancing sight of the fake Johnny Cash as he busted out another of his obscure back catalogue; one eye on the unnecessarily long queue at the bar; a drunk couple twice my age taking the stance that the […]Read More You Realise You’re Getting Old When You Find Yourself Knocking Back Rennie at a Gig
My friends and I, like the rest of you, have discovered the many uses of social networking app WhatsApp. Whether it be organising a group of disorganised fucktard friends, exchanging photographs of shrivelled penises, or exchanging words of unrivalled vitriol, there’s fun, and pragmatism for all the family. Recently, I’ve discovered that it’s been pretty darn […]Read More I Fantasise About Killing the Street Salesmen Who Try and Sell Me Broadband On A Daily Basis
For the past three years, a heavy burden has been resting on me. I have carried a barrelful of lies and deceit, but now, I believe the time is right to be honest with my friends, my family and myself, when I declare that: MY NAME IS ALFIE EVERS, AND I WATCH THE VOICE UK. Phew. […]Read More The Voice is Absolute Toilet, But For Some Reason I Watch it.
WARNING: May contain spoilers. But then, may not. Who cares?! It seems you can’t go anywhere these days without some mug invading your personal space and playing the whole “Have you seen…” game. “Have you seen Breaking Bad?” “Have you seen Game Of Thrones?” “Have you seen this mole on my cock, it’s really big and tastes […]Read More My Game Of Thrones Marathon Is Finally Over; But Now I Talk Weird and Smell of Poo
It’s January. And, if like me, you’ll likely visit friends’ houses moaning about your lack of money and whether or not it was a good thing you didn’t get into Rolf’s Cartoon Club (I’m still undecided). More often than not, after consuming all their bread and savoury snacks, I’ll ask if they have any chocolate – which […]Read More The Quality Street Revolution – My Struggle With Britain’s Favourite Festive Treat