I’ve had a few emails this week, presumably following my documentary, from people wanting physical copies of my book. The initial print sold out before Christmas after selling in 17 different countries and since then it’s just been available via Amazon Kindle; butttt I’ve had a small re-print which you can purchase here
This is likely to be the last batch of physical prints so if you want one get on it fast!
For a 13 minute insight into celebrity obsession, celebrity stalking and my life; check out my autobiographical mini-documentary “FANS” which I’ve been shooting throughout the McFly tour and other stuff!
PS: It’s embedded as HD here so if it’s taking too long to buffer just click through to YouTube and change the quality down.
And so it has arrived. The day I’ve ultimately been working towards whilst simultaneously running from for the past 3 years is finally upon us. Well, it actually arrived yesterday but I got so off my face on voddy that I’m writing this now. I have finally left university. Final work submitted, goodbyes said, and complete and utter fear. Now I’m no longer a student, does that mean I’m a man? And if so, why do I feel no different? I think the worst part of this whole situation is I can no longer receive my free cheese burger upon flashing my student card down McDonalds. The real reason people go to university. Before I ramble on, let me summarize last night; crazy. You know you’re on a mad one when the transvestite DJ in the club has to actually put an announcement out over the PA to the entire club apologizing for the boy dancing erratically on his own to One Direction. FYI, I wasn’t actually on my own; It’s just hard work trying to find someone willing to dance to One Direction in public with you. Even when in a group of 13.
I’ll be honest; university was more about the lifestyle than the actual course for me. But here I am 3 years later with a Bachelors Degree of Arts and Photography with Honours. Check me out innit. What’s the difference between a photographer a pizza? A pizza can feed a family of 4. Quite possibly the most pointless degree in existence? Well except Sport Science or Religious Studies. Not that I know quite what those courses entail, but I imagine there pretty simple. One teaches you to kick a ball; the other teaches you the story of a man that never died on a cross because he’s made up? Don’t get me wrong though, these 3 years have been amazing and I’ve learnt lots and developed my critical and conceptual thinking and experimented (that’s artistically, not sexually YA PERVERTS) and made friends and used this time to form a better understanding of myself as a person and all that cliché shit. I also got drunk quite a bit too. But now it’s like, and what? 90% of the people I know already with degrees just work at Tescos. Whilst the other 9% are either dole heads or doing something they hate. And then that other 1% comes down to one person; my brother. And that’s only because he skipped the Tesco queue, emigrated to Australia after graduation and has never looked back. And the most ironic thing is, he had a degree in Sport Science.
I feel like because I’ve been putting this day (yesterday) to the back of my mind for so long, now it’s arrived I’m unsure how to process it. I’m still no wiser about how I intend to spend my life than I was when I started the course. People seem to conjure up some kind of preconceived notion that because you’ve experienced some form of mild success previously you’ll be fine; but it’s like, I’m still sat in this boat with you. And there’s no Rose floating around on a door whistling the life boats back on this one. Yeeeah I’ve had pictures published in some awesome places and sold copies of my book in more countries than I’ve ever visited. But that was then, this is now. After years taking photographs I’m bored of it, and once you’ve wrote one book, it’s very rare you’ll be fucked to write another. There’s other stuff going on too, but I still have no idea what I wish to do. And what am I meant to say next time I’m awoken in a pool of my own vomit by a police officer whilst in my boxers on my door step? Because I can’t use the “I’m a student” anymore. Maybe I should just grow a beard and move to some strange country and live in a cave. Right now this seems the most appealing plan. And that isn’t because the cave would be a peaceful retreat from the mundane reality of Manchester; but because as far as I’m aware you don’t have to pay rent to live in one. Cause I doubt Osama and Saddam did. And I’m sure it’d be far more entertaining than moving back in with my parents which is also looming closer day by day.
Sometimes it’s hard to meet famous in the conventional places. And sometimes you do have to go a little further. Like their houses. It’s just unavoidable. And when your one of the biggest pop icons in the world right now, chances are I already love you; and even stronger chances are I’m gonna need a picture with you. I’ve seen One Direction at hotels, venues, radio stations…etc and they just never come over. I even followed them to a private airfield once and almost got hit by a plane; and did they stop for pics there? Nahhh. So on that, fuck it, off to Harrys house I went! I say off to the house like I was invited; I wasn’t. Obviously with this being me things didn’t go exactly according to plan as you can tell from the top image. “GET OUTTA MY GARDEN!” he shouted. Sorry Harry, I didn’t realize I was in your garden. Maybe get a better fence or something? Thankfully we settled our differences shortly after as you can see by image 2. Now rather than bore you with all the details of what happened in between this like usual, you can listen to the tale instead. Which leads to the second part of this blog ….I kinda now have a job on the radio! Although I’ll still continue sharing my stories of stalking and embarrassment through this blog, I’ll also be sharing them with a million people over the airwaves!
Confused? I imagine so. I was recently approached by a lovely chap from The Hits Radio about possibly having a regular chat on air about what I’ve been up to, who I’ve been stalking and my views on showbiz news and such. You get the gist yeah? So fast forward a couple of weeks after this and a load of test demos in the studio and it would appear I’m now ready for the “air”. How exciting. I’m not 100% but I believe my first broadcast will be tomorrow around 5:30. Well that’s what I was told as I left the station tonight, but this industry tends to have an instantaneous nature of changing. The station is The Hits Radio. The show is Takeover UK w/James Everton. It’s 16:00-19:00 weekdays. And you can listen online here, on freeview channel 711 or on DAB in London. And if you don’t already listen, you proper should …as let’s be honest, all the people I stalk and talk about on this blog are who are on the show every day. So yaeah, make sure you listen, tweet/text/fb in saying I’m awesome.
x
I am sad. After 6 wonderful weeks full of nothing but my favourite band, favourite people and favourite pass times (drinking and stalking), it is back to reality. And I’m already depressed. Mass suicide anybody?! Literally throughout these past 6 weeks everything has revolved around tour. EVERYTHING. In the rare days when we weren’t away in hotels, at shows, stalking from city to city or partying until the sun came up; we were then all passed out recovering before picking that suitcase back up and heading out to another city! And although I’m now sat here drowning in piles of unwashed clothes and the pressure of impending university deadlines whilst substantially poorer. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We’ve traveled over 1,000 miles and visited more cities than I can remember. There’s been unprovoked assaults, police statements, excessive stalking, countless #PICCYWITH, binge drinking, hotel parties, tour bus follows, Boris bike follows, shopping centre follows, crawling through bushes, more threatened police interaction, donkey rides through night clubs, after parties, Travelodge karaoke sessions, cross country taxis, less than recommendable sleeping conditions, kissy pics with Danny Jones mum and vomiting in front of Miss England amongst much much more.
As Dunn brought up the other days, remember the days where you’d go to a concert as the doors open, watch the band and then be in bed before midnight. How fuuuucking boring was that! Unless the show involves hours of stalking before, a bottle of vodka, trashing of a hotel, massive pre-gig party, drunken singing, a follow of the tour bus after and then an extra day or so of meeting the band, it hardly seems worth it.
My little documentary which I’ve filmed throughout this will also be online Tuesday.
PS: As I’ve said countless times before, you don’t have to be in a band to go on tour …just latch yourself onto your fave one and follow them everywhere. It’s a lot more exciting.
When I was younger Ian Watkins was my all Emo Jesus. So you could say I was slightly excited when he took me on a date to McDonalds. This video also features the capturing of Joseph (Traffic) Kony and drunkeness.
People always ask do I get bored going to see the same bands over and over, and as always, the answer is no. Because each weekend is entirely different and completely hilarious. Like this one has been in London.
Contains; drunken celebrity bicycle follows, Ashley Neil Horne from The Midnight Beast in a toilet, McFly at Hammersmith Apollo, the McFly after-party, Harry Judds rave dance moves, an hilarious way to pass time in a train station, causing a scene at Buckingham Palace, vomiting in front of Miss England (Danny McFlys girlfriend) and my thoughts on Easter.
Today I met the Queen. Well kinda. I was excited. I’m now disappointed. All I wanted was a kissy pic. Hopefully this vlog will explain why I’m so sad. Also isn’t vlog a weird word. VLOG VLOG VLOG.
Here is the movie trailer to the short documentary I’m making. It’s about fans, it’s a movie; it’s called “FANS The Movie” - and it’s basically fandom, celebrity stalking, awesome times and McFly all rolled into one. Check it out!
THE 9 STEPS TO BEING BANNED FROM YOUR FAVOURITE BAND (TOUR PT.1)
Out of the past 14 days, 7 of them have been dedicated entirely to McFly. I’ve met them in Manchester, seen them in Sheffield, met them again in Manchester, seen them at the Apollo, met them again in Manchester, seen them in Nottingham, seen them in Leeds …and met them again in Manchester. And now I’m here. We’ve traveled, partied, all come together from round the country; and never did I ever think I’d have the words “YOU’RE NEVER SEEING THE BOYS AGAIN” hurled in my direction. But I did, by their new touring security guard Chris who I don’t think had quite understood the extremes our passion towards this band would take us before taking on the job as the bands security
Thankfully Mr Harry Judd amended the situation and welcomed me back into the fandom from the dreaded blacklist, but they were certainly some dark times. I imagine you’re somewhat confused, so I’ll start from the beginning. Friday seen us heading into Nottingham for day 5 of the tour for us, sadly we missed out on tickets …but who needs an actual ticket to the show when you can listen from the street? Whilst dancing, singing, and having an all-round good time in the small gap between venue door and tour bus listening as intently as possible, an opportunity presented itself. The door happened to be open. I didn’t quite know where it would lead, but I obviously walked through it. Like the wise men following the light all those years ago, I happily skipped on through with the muffled drones of my favourite band leading the way. I was drunk, I was excited, adrenaline had captivated my body and I probably shouldn’t have done it. BUT I DID! Each step through the darkness made the music a little clearer and then all of a sudden one step around a small corner and I was there. I hadn’t just snuck into the show I’d travelled 3 hours to stand outside of; I’d somehow ended up on the side of the bloody stage! This was never my intention; I simply wanted to see my favourite band. Concealed behind a curtain pole and some technical looking stuff, I was having the time of my life. Well I was, for the chorus of “Lies” I managed to stay there for before we were all chucked back outside. Not just that, but we were then told we were never to see the band again!
I’m not sure whether this comment came from the outrage of the intrusion or the initial shock of the security breach; but I suppose it was justifiable. Thankfully Harry assuring him the next day we’re no threat to the band and he’s not to worry as he’s been seeing us for years and a hand shake and apology with said security chap cleared the situation up, but how crazy! I probably shouldn’t have done it, but you just would wouldn’t you? The alcohol told me to go for it, and the music led me through the dark. I didn’t want to end up on stage; I just wanted to see the bloody show I missed out buying tickets for because I had 6 other cities to buy for first on the day of release! It’s not like we were scaling the walls or climbing through windows or anything, an opportunity presented itself, AND I TOOK IT! Yes I regret it, but quite surprising how easily I managed to skip on over to such a prime spot for the show. And there you have it, the 9 steps to being banned from seeing your favourite band. And also reason 28728728927892 why Harry Judd is awesome.
Other than that these 7 days have been slightly amazing, slightly dramatic, and slightly tiring. I’d discuss all these other events a little more in depth, but they’ve all been filmed in HD for your viewing pleasure and will soon complete the documentary I’ve previously mentioned which I begin editing tomorrow titled “Fans”.
PS: Sorry once again Chris. I’m glad you now see we’re not crazy, just dedicated. I do understand how this could be misunderstood though. Welcome to the McFly fandom.
