This morning I decided to take the dogs out for their morning (remember we’re talking about GMT Georgios Morning Time so this means somewhere after midday) walk, and on the Hampstead side of the Heath, as I walked up Well Road, I bumped into Boy George. I can’t see him now without being reminded of that time his wig got stuck in my cross earring. How, I hear you ask. It was a particularly drunken night sometime in the 80’s, we played poker with a couple of friends, I won the round and he somehow lunged at me from across the table, his hairpiece got stuck in my cross earring and we spent the next 20 minutes trying to untie his hair without jerking my ear off. Followed by this was a fag outside first in silence, then he went into a drunken rant about how much he would like to shag me and how he felt rejected after I allegedly ‘dumped’ him when I became famous. I can’t even remember knowing him before I became famous, and certainly don’t remember dumping anyone. My guess is I would remember someone like Boy George.
Anyway. He said he would like to ‘give me one’ and I said I was trying to keep up a straight reputation. I probably also said something about not being gay, which had him laughing out loud for the best part of three minutes before he asked who I thought I was kidding. I said, “If I’m gay it would explain why you don’t turn me on.” He wasn’t particularly pleased about my response, started screaming and waving his arms around. I slapped him and quietly told him to snap out of it. He said I should f***ing snap out of it. And so it went on.
When I saw him now he was with a bunch of fans outside his house. I gave him a quick nod, he gave a quick nod back. His whole gang of fans turned and one said, “That’s that George Michael bloke, innit?” Boy George, looking triumphant, said, “Yeah, that’s George alright!” There was a silence, they looked at him, looked at me, shrugged and came sauntering towards me. In the corner of my eye I saw the Boy’s cheeks turn bright red behind his mascara and additional makeup. I expect a bitching in the Sunday Mail…
George
