Tuesday, 9 October 2007

Jamie Oliver on Vauxhall Bridge

Excuse my absence yesterday. I’ve been working with a homeless charity after pressure groups got in contact with my agent over comments I’d written last week about a tramp called Dodger. A monsterous injustice was committed on the name of Madeley but nobody seemed to care about that. Nobody leapt to my defence when I was unfairly criticised in comments. But I suppose everybody assumed that I have a big team of lawyers to do that for me. Dodger certainly wasn’t surprised. He’d told me privately that even bringing the subject up would lead to trouble. That’s the problem of being a blogging celebrity: honesty brings its own misery.

As I was serving soup to the homeless on the North Bank of the Thames, I looked up and saw somebody taking pictures of me. I thought it the paparazzi but noticed that the camera was too small. Then I assume it was a tourist. Then they lowered the camera and I saw it was Jamie Oliver.

‘Oy, Madeley,’ he yelled, a huge grin on that meat shank of a face of his. ‘How are you seasoning your soup?’

‘F**k off, Oliver,’ I shouted. I was cold, tired and stank of cabbage soup. He just chuckled and began to show off to his friends.

‘Is it oxtail? If it is, you want to season it with some real sea salt for that added flavour.’

‘Didn’t you hear me?’ I shouted back. ‘F**k the hell off, Oliver. We don’t need you around here.’

That got a small cheer from everybody in earshot. It surprised me. I’m aware that not all of you like me. In fact, I realise that I’m not everybody’s cup of tea. But in a contest betwee myself and Jamie Oliver, it seemed I had the popular vote. It was a unique and very satisfying feeling.

That's why I begn to feel good with myself and I grew determind not to respond to any more taunts. Only Oliver then began to get personal.

‘Love the black eye, Madeley,’ he shouted. ‘Did Judy give it you?’

My face must have visibly darkened. I don’t like to hear people making fun of Judy. I was about to ask him if he wanted one of his own, when I received some welcome support from an unexpected source.

The guys I’d been serving soup to suddenly turned on Oliver. The sound of tin soup tins being dropped was something eerie. It was like Dawn of the Dead as these shambling fellows then began to chase the guy who is supposed to be the nation’s most loved chef. I heard they lost him somewhere near Vauxhall Bridge but there’s an all-points-bullitin that’s gone out through London’s vagrant community. Oliver won’t be able to show his face in public without being spotted by one of them.

Jamie Oliver doesn’t deserve one of my factoid dumps but I’m cautious about what I say about the homeless, so I guess he’ll have to do. Did you know that his father made trombones and from an early age Jamie had a natural gift for the instrument. He’s still the only person to high a high C on a trombone before his fourth birthday. His remarkable lungs allow Jamie to talk for seven minutes without a breath. The downside of that is he needs extra large shirts as he’s always ripping them whenever he breathes too deep. His chest measure fifty seven inches fully inflated.


Glamourpuss said...

57 inches? That rather pales next to the size of his ego.


Anonymous said...

anon again..
a assumption you have made..
is that serving soup to homeless
are in fact street homeless...
please define, what you mean by
homeless, as many who attend
street soup runs, actually live
in hostels,for the homeless
but cant afford,the food charged in hostels, not forgetting many are
run by voluntary,and church organisations,housing benefit does not cover, many things when you live in a hostel
regards anon

Richard Madeley said...

Glamourpuss. It was only an appoximation. The next time I'll get the tape measure out.

Anonymous, I feel for you. I really do. You're clearly mistaking this blog for one of those blogs where people actually talk sense. I'm not interested in talking sense. If I write a word of sense, I feel like I've wasted my day. You are perhaps mistaking me for a different Richard who talks an equal amount of nonsense but doesn't know it.

Anonymous said...

thankyou richard...

Lord Higham-Johnson said...

Jamie is doing a grand job providing soup for the homeless, all 57 inches of them.

David said...

You should always carry a tape measure Richard.

Richard Madeley said...

Anonymous, you're welcome...

Higham, you are such a bloody crawler. Have Oliver asked you to come here and say nice things about him? I'll pay you double whatever he's paying.

David, you are right, but I have Judy to that sort of thing for me. She does love her tape measures, rulers, screwdrivers, hammers, saws, concrete mixers, trowels... I don't know where she'd be without them.

debio said...

So we can blame jamie's lung capacity on the umremitting torrent of inane drivel which frequently pours forth from his mouth.

Glad we've cleared that one up!

Swearing Mother said...

Hey Richard, are people taking you seriously? Now, where's the fun in that?

I hope this doesn't distract you from the inane drivel we've come to know and love.

Please don't start talking sense, I just couldn't stand it.

Richard Madeley said...

Debio, you're right on the money. Inane drivel pours from his mouth and he then usually then cooks it at gas mark 4 until it's utter tosh.

Swearing Mother, many people take me seriously. I don't understand why. You should see my inbox on some days. It's the reason I haven't posted today. Being taken seriously has been getting me down. I'm touched by your words, however, and I'll try to keep on blogging but sometimes it is very hard.

Lord Higham-Johnson said...

It's not everyday you don't post, Richard.

lady thinker said...

Sorry I was rude about yuor black eye - I've been feeling peevish lately, Madeley.
I don't know if you are aware that someone has posted as you? Perhaps you'd like to call in at my place on:


for further details.

Signed a Well Wisher.

Richard Madeley said...

Higham, I try my best but it's so annoying when people are always on at me. It doesn't fill me with enthusiasm in the morning.

Lady Thinker, I can't say your words didn't hurt me, but I'm glad we're friends again. And thanks for the link. I've informed the imposter that I exist and that I'm watching.

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