Strange/unexpected Moz references?

Famous when dead

Vulgarian
Moderator
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NealCassidy

FREE SPEECH #FBPB
 

NealCassidy

FREE SPEECH #FBPB
 

Hovis Lesley

Well-Known Member
Tiniest of Smiths mentions.



Champions League Final: How music legend Johnny Marr and Man City hero Dennis Tueart became best of friends


FWD.
Wow. I ‘met’ Dennis Tueart as a kid, watching Man City train. His autograph was considered a prize, not because of his City connection, but because he’d played for New York Cosmos.
 

Surface

Vegan Cro’s parents regret the condom splitting
Check out the 73,000 likes on this meme! Oof!’



73,000 and counting are


correct.


:cool:

Did you see what she said under the picture?

damn this really blew up. please check out and support my friends band, posted a link below. similar to the smiths but the singer isn’t a piece of shit. link below-
 

Ketamine Sun

<><><><><><><><><><>
Did you see what she said under the picture?

damn this really blew up. please check out and support my friends band, posted a link below. similar to the smiths but the singer isn’t a piece of shit. link below-

Not a great way to support their friends band, saying they sound ‘similar to The Smiths’ :lbf: :sleeping:

I mean, if someone is hyping a band to me, I wanna hear that the band is like nothing I’ve heard before!

Come on kids, bring something new to the table ! Because you can’t be Marr and you definitely can never be ....,


Morrissey.



VIVA MOZ !!!


:cool:
 

MrShoes

"Ooo, there's goobers on his bod." - Ted Cruz
Subscriber

GirlAfraidWillNeverLearn

The Courage to Get on People's Tits
Another take on the tale of how Moz and Murray met Julie.


Excerpt:

"The last time I sat in a pub and whiled away too much of an afternoon was actually in 2015, which shows you what a lightweight I’ve become – or maybe now I’m just stealthier in keeping my vices closer to home.

That December 2015, as London slowed down into the Christmas break, the writer and controversialist Julie Burchill sat in a pub in Maida Vale in London, waiting for Noel Gallagher to arrive to be interviewed. But first Julie got me – and she and I had form, going way back to 1994 when an angry Miss Burchill locked a bewildered, lovestruck Morrissey in her flat, having just landed a hefty punch on my face and thrown me out her front door.

It wasn’t quite the welcome Morrissey was used to but Julie, then at one of the many peaks of a dizzyingly dramatic career, was no pushover for a popstar, even one used to getting his own way with the restless lament of ‘how soon is now?’.

As was so often the case in my PR career, booze lay somewhere at the core of this incident. You see, if I hadn’t been so hungover the day Morrissey implored me to take him to meet his idol I would have paid more heed to her previous stridently negative response to my request for her to interview him.

He’d wanted to meet her for years and, as his publicist and friend, I was used to his perseverance when trying to meet people he admired. It was often left to me to make the approach although the day I had to call the clearly distressed veteran Carry On star Charles Hawtrey felt like some form of cruelty – to him and to myself.

Mr Hawtrey put the phone down on me and I don’t blame him; Julie’s reply, which I still have on a fading fax, was as direct as the slap she would later land on my chops – yet if ever a blow was to hit me and feel like a kiss it would be this hungover slug from Burchill, the Bard of Bristol.

In words worthy of Morrissey’s adored Oscar Wilde Julie Burchill answered me with this stinging rebuke – 'sir, I do not do interviews. I grant them'."





The fax


FaxJulieBurchilltoMurrayChalmers1994.jpg


'And if a fight broke out here tonight
You'd be the first away...' ? 🎶
 
Last edited:

joe frady

Vile Refusenik
Another take on the tale of how Moz and Murray met Julie.


Excerpt:

"The last time I sat in a pub and whiled away too much of an afternoon was actually in 2015, which shows you what a lightweight I’ve become – or maybe now I’m just stealthier in keeping my vices closer to home.

That December 2015, as London slowed down into the Christmas break, the writer and controversialist Julie Burchill sat in a pub in Maida Vale in London, waiting for Noel Gallagher to arrive to be interviewed. But first Julie got me – and she and I had form, going way back to 1994 when an angry Miss Burchill locked a bewildered, lovestruck Morrissey in her flat, having just landed a hefty punch on my face and thrown me out her front door.

It wasn’t quite the welcome Morrissey was used to but Julie, then at one of the many peaks of a dizzyingly dramatic career, was no pushover for a popstar, even one used to getting his own way with the restless lament of ‘how soon is now?’.

As was so often the case in my PR career, booze lay somewhere at the core of this incident. You see, if I hadn’t been so hungover the day Morrissey implored me to take him to meet his idol I would have paid more heed to her previous stridently negative response to my request for her to interview him.

He’d wanted to meet her for years and, as his publicist and friend, I was used to his perseverance when trying to meet people he admired. It was often left to me to make the approach although the day I had to call the clearly distressed veteran Carry On star Charles Hawtrey felt like some form of cruelty – to him and to myself.

Mr Hawtrey put the phone down on me and I don’t blame him; Julie’s reply, which I still have on a fading fax, was as direct as the slap she would later land on my chops – yet if ever a blow was to hit me and feel like a kiss it would be this hungover slug from Burchill, the Bard of Bristol.

In words worthy of Morrissey’s adored Oscar Wilde Julie Burchill answered me with this stinging rebuke – 'sir, I do not do interviews. I grant them'."





The fax


View attachment 73242

'And if a fight broke out here tonight
You'd be the first away...' ? 🎶

The tale gets better with every telling. í never quite believed that there was yer actual violence involved on Mint Murray!

An Ortonesque vision: a Sunday afternoon in N1 ~ a coked up, swinging Burchill, a hungover press chap, a bored disinterested husband...and at the centre of the storm? SPM. A vision of regal calm? Scared shiftless? Who can really say?

Surely someone had a Box Brownie on them to record a visual? And í'd love to hear what little crinkled C-90 remains of that day. í guess Rrrock's Back Pages aren't likely to get the audio on this one. Burchill & Moz ~ their little heads would melt...

.
 

Nerak

Reverse Ferret
The tale gets better with every telling. í never quite believed that there was yer actual violence involved on Mint Murray!

An Ortonesque vision: a Sunday afternoon in N1 ~ a coked up, swinging Burchill, a hungover press chap, a bored disinterested husband...and at the centre of the storm? SPM. A vision of regal calm? Scared shiftless? Who can really say?

Surely someone had a Box Brownie on them to record a visual? And í'd love to hear what little crinkled C-90 remains of that day. í guess Rrrock's Back Pages aren't likely to get the audio on this one. Burchill & Moz ~ their little heads would melt...

.

Although I feel for Danny & Julie getting their jokes catastrophically wrong - the fact that 2 ex NME hacks are going to be part of Royal History as the most overt examples of UK press racism does make me cackle.
 
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