The lovely Mr BC and I are in a minicab, on our way to Paddington Station.
RADIO ANNOUNCER: And now on London's Heart 106.2, Toby Anstis enters the Time Tunnel.
There is a slight pause.
ME: Toby Anstis's cat once shagged my cat.
Mr BC: ...
ME: Yes, I know, it's not one of my better claims to fame.
Mr BC: ...
ME: Actually it sort of is.
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I have a horrid mental picture of Mr Anstis standing over the two rutting felines, leering and doing the forearm jerk, and grunting: "Go on, my son, she loves it!"
Er, yes, and now so have the rest of us...
Anyway, it certainly beats being asked for the time by Greg Proops (the feline-based claim to fame, obviously; not Tim's mental image). I think.
I learn so much about popular culture here, from the music to which you have introduced me, to this Mr Toby Anstis (who I had to look up on Wiki).
I did know who Simon Amstell is, though (only because I watch Buzzcocks, mind you) so at least I won't accidentally confuse the two.
My favourite claim to fame is that I once snogged the son of the anaesthetist who gave Angelina Jolie her epidural last year.
(Although I'd like to point out that I have a Bacon number of 4, through at least two different routes, and no, neither of them involve Angelina. Ha!)
Tim: Aww, I'm sure the delightful Mr Anstis would never do anything so vulgar.
OPC: We must know more: when, where and why did Greg Proops ask you the time? And what time was it?
Dave: I'm ashamed to admit I have no idea who Simon Amstell is. Ought I to?
Scroobious: Do tell!
I like Tim's mental picture, although mine features yourself and Mr Anstis standing nearby with something approaching paternal pride. Oh and applauding when they finish.
Er, route one is Charles Dance (who once flirted with me, in his role of On-Duty Celebrity at a charity bash; I think I might have mentioned this before), and route two is the film maker Tony Palmer (who picked me up on the street, but in an entirely platonic way, really). See, neither of those is as good a story as Angelina's epidural.
Billy: I wasn't aware at the time that it was Toby Anstis's cat, although I knew Toby Anstis lived on our street. I surprised our cat in flagrante one evening with a grey stripy thing in the bushes in front of our house, and thought nothing more of it until some weeks later, Toby Anstis was on the Broom Cupboard, and announced that he'd brought his cat in with him that day. He proceeded to hold up to the camera the very same stripy beast as I'd seen consorting with my own feline.
Scroobious: The Charles Dance story is pretty good. I wonder if anyone else has been flirted with by a star of period drama?
I once went out with someone who claimed to be a cousin of Toby Anstiss.
I had no idea who he was talking about. I'm still not altogether sure...
Spinny! For a moment there I thought you might be back, and was very sad to find your farewell message still in situ on the blog. Bah. Hope all's well.
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