Regular readers might have detected a slight fondness for a young musician named Patrick on this blog in the past.
Now I’m not a groupie, honest. Nor am I an obsessive. Not really. I’m just someone who loves his music, marvels at his brain, and was happy enough to meet him earlier this year after a gig in Camden. Admittedly I was a little drunk, still deaf from the loud Glaswegians on immediately before him and a little excitable, but I’m sure Patrick just thought I was charming when I rubbed his arm for half an hour (drunk) whilst shouting his name from one foot away (deaf) and then all but headlocked him into a photo with me (excited).
So, when I found out his recent tour brought him to a charming little Canadian city called Vancouver (again, a place you might have heard mention of here before), I bullied a friend of mine there into attending his concert. Naturally, he didn’t. But he did say that a journalist friend of his was interviewing him, and humoured my schoolgirl screeching for an autograph, or at least some other bauble or freebie from The Wolf. My friend said he would see what he could do.
This morning I received said note. (Do you see how I just wrote that last sentence all blasé and nonchalant, as if I hadn’t been checking the post every morning for the past month?). It was in an envelope decorated in his own unique way (annotations for the postal staff including “corner” and “stamp” complete with arrows, and friendly instructions on the back as to how best insert the envelope into my anus). Thanks, Brad. Sincerely.
Its contents have now, naturally, become one of my most prized possessions, with the envelope its appropriate chariot. Unfortunately, it’s not the sort of thing you can proudly show off to your grandparents or small children. I can’t help but think my aforementioned friend had something to do with its content as well, as Patrick pondered what to write…
It’s just not what you’d expect is it?
I love it.
That is the best autograph in the history of celebrity, Benji. It almost excuses you for being a drooling little fanboy. Almost. ;)
Oh and I love it too.
Paddy Wolf. How lucky are you?! He truly is bizarre in the most amazing way possible.
How dare you link to my blog when you know I haven’t updated it in a month! Why don’t you just run through the streets with my sullied underpants?
And no problem, Ben. It was really all Max’s effort. I’m going to refer him to this post. He’ll be quite amused.
Great blog! Love the profile :)
ha ha ha that’s brilliant. I have a secret to tell you mr ben, ha, sorry, only just got what you’ve been probably bored of for years…anyhow, yes, it’s only a small secret, but I will facebook you privately xxx
I’m afraid the note from Patrick was my fault; he seemed to think that I was wracked with guilt after sleeping with you. I tried to explain that I’d never actually met you, but he would not listen. Anyways, if I ever interview him again I’ll try to get a better souvenir. Fun facts I learned: he loves High School Musical, he didn’t know what a haiku was until I explained, he sometimes has Marmite on his toast, and he drinks Smirnoff vodka backstage.
And he doesn’t wear underwear.
It’s a fantastic souvenir. To be honest I was expecting something more along the lines of “Hi Ben, please leave me alone or I’ll call the police. Really though, I mean it. P xxx”, so anything else is a bonus.
That’s a wonderful momento, Benjy… I, too, am sorry you had violent bum sex. Unless you liked it. In which case, congrats on the violent bum sex!
The vodka backstage explains rather a lot.
‘violent bum sex’ is an anagram of ‘ex tv mobile sun’
Genius all round.
Whahahahaha! Brilliant!
And three kisses – count them – three! Oh perhaps you already have… :)
Hi Ben,
You prob know this already, but Patrick Wolf has just added another date at
Shepherds Bush Empire – Dec 21, just in case you were thinking of going!