Blessed - Absolute Pandemonium: The Autobiography

This book is dedicated to my soulmate Misty,
a Jack Russell who sadly passed away a few months ago,
and left me feeling like a dog

Have you ever tried going to the loo at 26,000 feet?

Well, take my advice, dear reader, and dont! I could write a book on this alone, you know. Its a nightmare! Nothing goes where it should.

In 1993 I was in that very position about three-quarters of the way up Mount Everest on the Lhotse Face when a member of our party, Ian Madron, decided he needed a shit. There were four of us in a two-man tent perilous!

What, NOW? I said to him. But its three oclock in the morning. Theres a four-mile drop directly outside and the weathers wilder than a randy bull elephant. Youll just have to go in your pants!

He looked aghast.

Itll turn to dust after half an hour, I continued. Go on, man, itll warm you up.

Im afraid that Ian didnt take kindly to this suggestion and, in hindsight, with us all being in such close proximity, Im actually quite glad.

Dont worry, he said. Ill be fine.

And so, with heavy hearts and nervous noses, we watched as Ian made his way across our bodies towards the zip.

Dont forget to wash your hands, I shouted after him. And make sure you tie up to a rope.

What a time to want to go for a bloody crap, I thought to myself. Anyway, after a few nervous minutes the zip began to go again and in crawled Ian, followed by about half a ton of bloody snow.

Success! he shouted. Happy was the man.

Once Ian was safely back in his corner we decided to get up and try to make a brew. We were supposed to be going for the summit in just a few hours so there was no use trying to nod off again.

Come on then you buggers, I rallied. Lets try to warm some water up.

After about five minutes another member of our party, Ian Frost, said, Do you know, theres a terrible smell of shit in here. Its absolutely awful. Can you smell it, Brian?

Yes, I can, I replied. Youre right, Ian. Its appalling!

I looked nervously round the tent to try and find out where the pong was emanating from, and there, on Ian Madrons shoulder, was a turd.

Hed obviously done his business, the wind had caught it, there was a lull and it had flown home, so to speak. A homing turd! He was back outside double-quick.

Aaah, the glamour of Everest!

Mountaineers have a reputation for being both noble and heroic, which I applaud heartily. Nevertheless, I do remember an old climber reciting a poem to me one day:

Mountaineers have furry ears and pee through leather britches

They wipe their arse on broken glass, those hardy sons of bitches.

By the way, dear reader, a quick word of warning. If you ever do decide to climb Mount Everest take my advice and always camp above the French because, believe you me, when it comes to toilets, they will and from a great height.

It is now over twenty-two years since I last wrote about anything other than mountaineering or exploring. Twenty-two years! I couldnt resist throwing in an Everest anecdote to start us off, but this book is going to take you from my childhood in Goldthorpe to Z Cars, Flash Gordon, Star Wars and much much more. There will be adversity overcome, punches thrown and even a love story. Yes, I am ready to burst forth once more and share with you some of my favourite stories and memories. Mark my words, though, this is no ordinary book, and is different to anything Ive written before.

My previous five tomes, all of which I am tremendously proud, came from my head, if you see what I mean. I sat there for months on end and I thought and I wrote and I thought and I wrote. But this is something far more spontaneous. It is a conversation piece, if you will which is why I must ask a favour of you. You must read the book with my voice in mind, as if I were there with you. This is very important.

You see, this is Brian Blessed speaking to you, not Stephen sexy gorgeous Fry! Try and imagine this, I beg of you: try and imagine I am sitting in a huge armchair and I am reading this to you and you only. I want to leap out of the pages at you! Not literally, of course. I mean, where on earth would you keep me? Im quite a size.

The book does get a little bit racy at times, and you will find one or two naughty words along the way, but I promise you its all there for a reason, alright? You see, when I think, I dont swear, which is why all my previous books are relatively clean; but when I talk, I do. Its just something that happens!

It was suggested that I might wish to remove some of the more colourful language... but then it would no longer be my book, would it? Itd be more Thora Hird than Brian Blessed, and that would never do. But mark my words, dear reader, I do not swear for the sake of swearing. Oh no. When I swear, I BLOODY WELL MEAN TO SWEAR! (Did you imagine me shouting just then? You see, youre getting it.) Anyway, if you can get over the blue language, well get along just fine. Forewarned is forearmed and all that.

So, are you excited? I hope you are! This book is all about fun and adventure. Its a romp! There are some sombre moments, but I flatter myself that I can give even the saddest event a whimsical edge. I am an optimist, you see. A HUGE great bearded smiley optimist with a sunny disposition and can do attitude, and thats what I try to get across in this book. Whatever you want to do in life, just go for it! Grab it by the scruff of the neck and shake the bugger until youre there.

Anyway, I think its time we cracked on, dont you?

Remember, think Blessed!

Look at him! Hes a monster! were Mothers first words to me.

For the first week of my life I was known as the Toad. I was incredibly ugly! I didnt open my eyes a great deal at first and my mother was so horrified by my appearance that she couldnt even look at me, let alone nurse me.

It wont surprise you to know that I was a big baby; apparently they had to deliver me using a pneumatic drill. Actually, it was forceps, but by the time I eventually arrived on this planet my personage had been messed about with so much that I was quite badly disfigured. There were no coochee coochee coos for Baby Blessed. Just: Look at him, hes a toad!

Fortunately, the woman in the next bed, a Mrs Brindley, took pity on us both.

Never mind, Mrs Blessed, she said. Look, Ill nurse him while you recover.

And so, for the first few days of my life, I had a foster mother the wonderful Mrs Brindley!

Jumping ahead twenty-six years (Ill warn you now that I do this rather a lot, so youll have to try and bear with me, OK?), I was filming an episode of Z Cars one day when all of a sudden an old lady approached me. She was playing one of the extras and was carrying a small dog.

You wont remember me, Brian, she said, but Im Mrs Brindley. I had to nurse you after you were born because you were so ugly.

Mrs Brindley! I cried. Mothers told me all about you. Here, come and meet the rest of the cast.

So I called all my colleagues over, Stratford Johns and Jimmy Ellis and all the stars, and introduced Mrs Brindley to them as my foster mother.

This dear woman had to nurse me when I was a baby because my own mother couldnt bear to look at me!

And do you know what? Nobody seemed that surprised.

Poor Mother, though. She really had been beside herself. She genuinely thought that shed given birth to some kind of hideous amphibian.

Dont worry, said the nurses. Once he keeps his eyes open youll see a different baby. He cant possibly stay like that forever. Anyway, most babies are ugly when theyre born.