Found some pictures the other day from when I met All Time Low on their first ever UK tour in 2008. I’ll spare you all the embarrassing reminder of my awkward 15 year old emo phase, but it’s pretty awesome to see how far they’ve come since then.
That tour was co-headlining with Cobra Starship of venues 10 times smaller than the one they played last night and after the show there must have been like 8 people waiting to meet them… which compared to the scenes from the video I shot below is madddddd! Kinda cool to see “rock” hitting the mainstream though.
Also managed to meet Jack and Alex today at a radio station away from the mayhem of the venue and they were still as lovely as they were all them years ago.
It’s very rare I’ll let something as superficial as celebrity get to me like this. But I just don’t know how to continue. It’s 4am as I type this out into my iPhone note pad, and I may be a little drunk which is heightening this UTTER RAGE I am feeling, but I just need to vent this anger. I’ve had a lovely night up until this point. Friends, cocktails and general good times; it’s only now upon stumbling home and putting tonight’s Celebrity Big Brother on that I’m overcome with an anger I haven’t recognized prior to this. Yes it’s no surprise that the “celebrities” on CBB aren’t actually celebrities; more a selection of fame hungry once relevant fading stars looking to pay the bills, but are Channel 5 actually serious this year? There’s scraping the barrel, and then there’s Andrew fucking Stone. World famous pop icon, dancer to the stars and general A-lister? Or simply a poor man’s Louis Spence? You decide. And I imagine your answer to that is considerably different to Andrew’s.
Before I launch into this hate fueled rant though, there’s one thing I must stress which Andrew is quite hesitate to discuss; he is not gay. Nope. He prances, he’s limp wristed, he wear’s make up, he take cock up the arse; but Andrew Stone is not gay. Now that’s out of the way, I’d like to move onto his second annoyance which sees me reaching for things to throw at the television every time he’s on screen; his hair. A cross between Rihanna and a fucking twat; Andrew has the perfect hair to match his obviously masculine exterior. A side shaved undercut bob with highlights. Yes Andrew, you’ll definitely fit in as “one of the lads” with that atrocity. Next point; Andrew’s utter self-delusion. It’s no shock that celebrities like to delude themselves of their own self-importance; but surely they have to have had some slight important to begin with for this to happen? Oh no, not in Andrew’s case! Just kidding… he’s danced with Britney, he’s sung with Whitney, he’s an international pop sensation! And he’s chats complete and utter shite. Obviously with him being such a world famous megastar though and me being somewhat of a celebrity stalker, it’s only right I have some kind of real life encounter to share with this true sensation.
Where did I see him you ask? Selling out the O2? Getting mobbed by fans? Accosted by paparazzi? Not quite. My first meeting happened in a car park in Hull which had been designated “backstage” for a McFly show; to which I (hate myself for) shamelessly flirting back with him to prolong my time in this exclusive area before my inevitable security removal. And the second time came whilst he was opening for John and Edward in a field on the outskirts of Wigan. So showbiz, I know. And if his flamboyant yet completely heterosexual 15 minute set of stereotyped drama queen inspired prancing wasn’t the most infuriating thing I’ve ever witnessed under the category of “music” – we then had the absolute delight of staying in the same hotel as him.Whereas most celebrities would continue with their business and interact with “fans” as and when they approached them; Andrew and his management of course pranced on over asking what we thought of his performance. Explaining everything from in-depth chats about his musical style to the big and exciting projects he has coming up. Which I’m guessing you have all realized never did come up as he’s now in Big Brother spouting the same shit. You’re also probably wondering why we didn’t just confess our hatred to him then and there? The answer is simple. It was 3am, the hotel was miles from anywhere, we were starving, and Andrew had just let his inner diva out as he explained his celebrity status to the hotel management and DEMANDED the kitchen re-opened. Which they did and later presented him with enough sandwiches to feed his ever growing ego …WHICH THE CUNT DIDN’T SHARE. And it’s not just us, the general public, “his fans”, that are feeling this rage following real life encounters with Andrew, but actual celebrities who have experienced actual success also. Take this tweet from Kaiser Chief’s frontman Ricky Wilson; “I was once on a flight with Andrew Stone. Even I hoped we would crash.” A selfless statement which truly summarizes the feeling any Andrew related encounter leaves you with.
Before you all get the wrong idea from this post, I am not homophobic in the slightest. I don’t care whether someone’s attracted to men, women or animal’s; as long as they’re happy, I’m happy. It’s just when discussing Andrew Stone, this rational thinking vanishes as the only person that believes Andrew Stone is straight, is Andrew Stone.
Before I end this though, I am PLEADING with you Great Britain; when the opportunity presents itself, can we all please pick up our phones and vote this person off our televisions forever? I know we’re in a recession and money is tight, but if anything was worth bankrupting yourself for; it’d be the satisfaction of knowing your life savings were spent deflating the ego of this delusional wannabe. As let’s be honest, the only thing relevant about Andrew Stone is his surname. And please don’t confuse that as some kind of reference to the non-metallic mineral matter which is rock; it’s simply because the mere sight of him creates this burning desire inside you to stone him to death.
I usually leave my hate filled rants to my second blog, but I just had to re-blog this to my followers on this one. Never has one single person filled me with such ANGER.
After 2009’s NYE party seen furniture being smashed and set on fire, foreign exchange housemates terrorized and a trip to A&E; and 2010’s seen street fights, tears, police vans and minor drug abuse. You could say I was somewhat hesitant about how 2011’s would go. But ignoring the clambering car roofs, falling out of stolen shopping trolleys, smashed glasses and spillages, throwing toilet roll round the street, urinating on the neighbour’s door steps, vomiting blood and sleep walking strangers climbing into bed with you at 6am, it went pretty awesome! No arguments, no falling out, just reckless immature drunken fun. Which is always a win. Here’s some footage I filmed between getting drunk and dancing to Heather Small.
Also this past week thanks to BBC show MIRANDA I’ve developed a slight obsession with 90’s pop star Heather Small and her timeless classic “Proud”. Rather than simply just downloading the song and listening to it casually, I HAVE LET IT AND HEATHER TAKE OVER MY ENTIRE LIFE. I’ve found myself dangling out the car window on the motorway with my home made Heather masks waving them at passing cars and bursting into powerful renditions of the track on busy train carriages, in Asda …even in a Chinese all-you-can-eat buffet! So obviously it’s no surprise that I had to incorporate her into my New Year’s Eve party. And although my friends pleaded for the song to be taken off constant repeat, as you can clearly see they’re loving a bit of Heather too during her frequent appearances in this video.
And remember; think big when thinking of Heather Small.
Okay so last boxing day whilst listening to drunken slurs and ambitions of friends at a party, I had a thought. A thought which quickly became an imponderable dream, then moved on to become a joke and then finally became somewhat plausible. The thought was to write a book. I didn’t know exactly what about then, but each year during the lazy period between Christmas and New Years I try to set myself something to aim for in the New Year. Similar to a New Year’s resolution I suppose, but rather than sitting around on my fat arse all year eating and then posting a Facebook status about how I’ll start a diet once January 1st hits like every other bitch seems to do, I try to put some level of determination in. And 70,000 words, several months of slacking and some immense effort later my book is finally finished, printed and posted out for the world to see …and I’m unsure how I feel. Thanks to the lovely people at Royal Mail many people I know and many people I don’t will be receiving said book through their letter box today, and this scares me beyond all belief.
I never really thought about this during the actual writing. What initially started as me simply reminiscing about memories passed became a lot more in some chapters; amongst the sarcastic celebrity packed tales the book became kinda like my own personal little diary. Talking about things I’ve never spoke out loud in my entire life; things that surprised even my own mother. I suppose It’s not this that scares me, but more the fact that I’ve never really shown this side of myself to anybody else that seems somewhat frightening. But then I suppose maybe this is a good thing? In one sense the person I write about in my blogs is nothing but an alter ego. Yes obviously it’s still me, but the way I write allows me to project myself a specific way and control how you perceive me. Whereas certain chapters go beyond this and another side of myself becomes apparent on a much more personal level. The real me. Before you get the wrong idea I’m only really talking about two specific chapters in the book, the rest is the sarcastic foul mouthed tales of celebrity harassment I presume you all purchased it for!
As mentioned, the book was always about writing for myself, nobody else; which will become apparent when you notice the never ending list of poor grammar, misspelt words and badly structured sentences. I failed my English GCSE, I don’t have any A-Levels, and I’m fairly sure after a test at university I’m somewhat dyslexic. But I kind of like this. I’m not a writer, I’m just someone that decided writing a book might be cool without really thinking about the reality of it. How many copies I sold and how many people read the words I was bashing out has also always been irrelevant to me. But now it’s out there I can’t thank you all enough what’ve purchased and showed an interest. It’s baffling that strangers as far as Asia and Australia to Skegness and Scotland want to read about my life, let alone pay to do so. But they have, and the money has paid for me to achieve another dream of mine …RENTING AN APARTMENT IN L.A WITH MY BEST FRIEND AND ROAD TRIPPING TO LAS VEGAS ON MY 21ST. And I honestly can’t thank you all enough. After spending 2 hours in the Post Office yesterday, I will send out the final lot tomorrow which you can see suffocating me in my room. And then there’s 5 left ………until I get some more printed in the New Year if people are still wanting? If not there’s always the eBOOK version which you can still get here and will be on Amazon some point in the New Year.
Merry Christmas anonymous strangers that read this, I can’t thank you enough.
PS: I also made two other resolutions last year which have also come true. So all in all, 2011 has been good to me.
PPS: I promise this will be the last time I rant on about my book.
People regularly message me like “oh you’re so lucky” “you get to meet everybody” “I wish I had your life” and stuff like that, so to prove how unlucky I am, how I don’t always get to meet everybody and how you most probably don’t wish to have my life, I filmed the majority of my last “stalk” to upload for your viewing pleasure. And hilariously out of the 46289729 times I’ve met McFly and various other celebrities and bands the one time I actually decide to film my day, everything fails!
THE PAPARAZZI PROJECT ft. Jedward, Some women from Loose Women …and Me
A couple of months ago I received a message from some students down in High Wycombe putting together a short documentary about the paparazzi and was asked if I’d like to be in it to discuss my time freelancing in the industry. And if a free trip down south wasn’t enough for me to say yes, getting to sit and talk about myself for the duration was! Nah joking aside it was a fun experience. And as awkward and nervous as I may find myself, this finished result is pretty cool.
Isn’t video a funny thing though? With pictures I can manipulate myself to become a somewhat alter-ego you could say and portray myself how I’d like to be perceived. But with video it’s just like, me. No tweaks, no airbrushing or stupid poses; just the real me. Socially awkward and goofy looking.
PS: Sorry for saying cunt and getting *beeped* within the first 20 seconds of speaking Mum. Don’t be mad.
If I had £1 for every re-blog or “like” this picture of me has had by a complete stranger then I’d have enough to buy something pretty bloody cool. Like a car. Or 20 micro pigs. And maybe even a cute little pen for my garden which my micro pig army could live in. But I don’t. So carry on re-blogging this as you were, but just know that it isn’t getting me any closer to my micro pig dream. You selfish selfish bastards!
As much as I love you, I do wish you’d dress for the weather a little better. I don’t know about where you live, but Manchester’s kinda cold right now. Like FUCKING cold. Which I’m sure you noticed during your brief visit recently. But there you were, bra popping open and a barely there dress; and it just isn’t acceptable is it Taylor? Yes you could argue you’re wearing a coat, but what good is this when your vaginal flaps are practically dangling out for the world to see? No good at all Taylor. What’s worse is I fear any further exposure to the treacherous conditions currently captivating a high percentage of the country in your prostitute like attire will ultimately result in you catching hypothermia. And taking the selection of diseases your outfit suggests you already have into consideration, I don’t think this would be very good either Taylor. In fact, I think it could kill you Taylor. And then if you’re dead who’s going to tour the world with their live sex show? Nobody, that’s who Taylor. Obviously by live sex show I mean one of the most borderline paedophilic things classified under “live music” I have ever witnessed; but this doesn’t lesson my point any Taylor. You’re not just an icon to hookers globally, you’re the sigh of relief each parent takes when they know it’s time for “the talk”. Nobody wants to chat to their children about safe sex and STDs – and thankfully they don’t have to when the tabloids have your face and quotes plastered across them. You’re living proof Taylor. If anything’s going to make kids rubber up, its paparazzi shots of you stumbling looking all nasty and riddled. But if you’re dead, then this will no longer happen will It Taylor? They’ll be nobody to educate the children. Teenage pregnancies will soar, diseases will riot; but worst of all Taylor, lives will be ruined. So for the sake of the world, please put your bits away and dress a little more responsibly Taylor.
Other than that, it was lovely meeting you again Taylor.
Kind Regards,
Joshua Fox
PS: I have a book out which discusses many other celebrity encounters like this which you can check out here
As we’ve now all frantically snapped up our tickets for the 2012 tour and began with the excitement, I wanted to share an idea I kinda had which focusses around this. A McFly documentary. However centred solely round the fans rather than the band. From my blogs you may have read I’ve posted before discussing the lengths friends and I regularly go to for the band, I want to bring this to light via video. People often message me “oh you’re crazy” “how can you sleep on the streets?” “What do you love about them so much?” “Your sad” etc etc etc. And as much as I try to explain how Mcfly are so much more than a band, It often doesn’t translate across very well hence why I want to make a mini documentary focussing on us “hardcore” fans. Rather than simply portraying us as “stalkers” or “crazy” as people tend to stereotype, I want to explore the impact McFly have on our day-to-day lives and the alternative life style being a fan has provided to so many of us.
The documentary will be titled “McLife” and I’m basically looking to interview as many fans as possible discussing just what exactly the band means to them. I’m also looking for a few individuals to be the main focus of the short film whose stories really convey the significance this band have had on their lives and are comfortable sharing them. I’m still planning and conceptualizing the project right now, but I’ll be looking to start shooting the interview type scenes in the new year and then film through-out the entire March/April tour and have it mastered and up by the end of April.
The documentary will be heavily shared online and then passed on to the band themselves, so if you’re up for getting involved or want to let the boys know just what they mean to you, please feel free to message me! (Contact links on the side)
(Although I’m predominantly based in Manchester I’m regularly travelling around the country and can shoot anywhere , so don’t let location put you off. This is a documentary by fans, of the fans, for the fans – so the more people involved the merrier)
That’s basically all. Hopefully the project will be as fun in reality as it is in my head.
Joshua
(PS: McFly fans hit that re-blog button)
Update: Throughout tour I want to shoot as many of you as possible each starting one sentence beginning with “McFly are….” then really try to convey what the band mean to you in that one sentence. So whether we’ve ever met or not and you wanna be involved, get your thinking caps on and drop me a msg with which dates you’re going and we can shoot something before the show at the venue!
If you enjoy tales of celebrity harassment, Miley Cyrus and sarcasm, then be sure to click through and purchase what can only be described as the silliest book you’ll ever read. The book discusses my time working as a paparazzi photographer. The highs and lows of working such an unconventional job at such a young age. My various tales stalking my way to some of the biggest stars in the world and the ridiculous and hilarious things which have occurred in the process. My countless personal encounters with my darling Miley Cyrus. An insight into this world of obsessive fans and the extremes they’ll repeatedly put themselves in to meet their favourite stars. A selection of pictures of myself and the stars from over the years. Three chapters packed full of tips and hints how you can meet your favourite stars and much much more! CLICK CLICK CLICK TO BUY
Feel free to shoot me any questions via Facebook, Twitter or Joshua_fox@live.co.uk – There’s more info about the book on the actual online store so click through and check out. and thank you!
My book about years working as a teenage paparazzo, my constant pursuit of Miley Cyrus and endless harassment of some of the world’s biggest stars“Some Call It Stalking, I Call It Love” IS NOW ON SALE click to buy!
Also blog about my day-to-day life and drunken celebrity encounters
