I pulled way more chicks be­fore I was Bond. He ru­ined my sex life for a while. It was ter­ri­ble

The Irish Mail on Sunday - TV Week - - CONTENTS -

Pompous, cyn­i­cal, whin­ing – is Piers talk­ing about him­self again?


Jeremy Pax­man has quit News­night, and as end­less in­sin­cere syco­phants queue up to pay trib­ute to this sup­pos­edly ‘fear­less grand in­quisi­tor’,

I pre­fer to be more hon­est in my ap­praisal. Pax­man’s been a whin­ing, cyn­i­cal, pompous, bored and bor­ing scab on the tele­vi­sual land­scape for years. An ever more lu­di­crous par­ody of a once un­de­ni­ably skilled po­lit­i­cal in­ter­viewer.

He’s also, as I dis­cov­ered when he de­lib­er­ately, and disin­gen­u­ously, tried to land me in it dur­ing the Leve­son In­quiry, a cu­ri­ously poi­sonous, back­stab­bing lit­tle weasel.


In a tu­mul­tuous 24 hours for TV pre­sen­ters called Jeremy, my old foe Clark­son has been caught us­ing the N-word dur­ing Top Gear film­ing.

He typ­i­cally lied when con­fronted with the rev­e­la­tion, in­sist­ing he’d never say the N-word. Then he is­sued one of the world’s most piti­ful, grov­el­ling video apolo­gies af­ter the BBC or­dered him to fess up or lose his job.

Clark­son’s now ap­par­ently on a ‘fi­nal warn­ing’ and isn’t al­lowed to of­fend any­one ever again.

Which, given that his only act is of­fend­ing people like hard-work­ing nurses and train sui­cide vic­tims, or spew­ing ca­sual racism, means he’ll be gone by Christ­mas.

I’ll keep the Dom Perignon on ice.


I at­tended a sump­tu­ous Jaguar car par ty ap­pro­pri­ately ent it led A Vil­lain­ous Af­fair, on the roof of The Lon­don ho­tel in West Hol­ly­wood.

And I was in­tro­duced to Ge­orge Lazenby, who re­placed Sean Con­nery to play James Bond in On Her Majesty’s Se­cret Ser­vice.

Now 74, Aus­tralian Lazenby is a strap­pingly fit 6ft 2in bear of a man with gi­ant hands and the ruggedly hand­some chis­elled fea­tures that landed him the role.

He mem­o­rably re­fused to make a sec­ond Bond film af­ter fall­ing out with the pro­duc­ers, grow­ing a beard and long hair, and declar­ing: ‘Bond is a brute! I will never play him again – peace is the mes­sage now!’

Dur­ing a most en­ter­tain­ing chat, Lazenby ad­mit­ted: ‘I was of­fered a for tune to do more, but I was per­suaded the fu­ture was mak­ing spaghetti wester ns like Clint East­wood, not wear­ing suits and short cropped hair look­ing like a f****** waiter! It was all around the time of the Viet­nam War. I be­came a dumb hippy and made some ridicu­lous de­ci­sions. I even re­fused to go and see Pres­i­dent Nixon at the White House.’

For years, Lazenby’s Bond was used as an ex­am­ple of the dan­gers in fol low­ing a leg­end, a phe­nom­e­non known as the ‘ David Moyes’ fac­tor, and some­thing I had per­sonal ex­pe­ri­ence of when I took over from Larry King at CNN.

But re­cently, many Bond fans have grown to view OHMSS as one of the best of the Bond movie fran­chise.

Lazenby in­sisted though: ‘Sean Con­nery WAS James Bond. The rest of us were just im­posters.’

‘ Must have been good for at­tract­ing the ladies though, Ge­orge?’ I sug­gested.

‘No mate, it was ter­ri­ble!’ he scoffed. ‘I pulled way more chicks be­fore I was Bond. He ru­ined my sex life for a while! Once you’re 007, ev­ery­thing changes. Women put you on this pedestal, makes it much harder to get laid!’

He roared with laugh­ter. And me­thinks he was slightly ex­ag­ger­at­ing his prob­lems. Lazenby is renowned as one of the great­est sex­ual swords­men in Hol­ly­wood his­tory.


One of the worst things about Twit­ter is it logs ev­ery pre­dic­tion or as­ser­tion in per­pe­tu­ity. Thus en­abling you to be reg­ula rly hoist by your own in­tem­per­ate petard. For ex­am­ple, 18 months ago, I de­scribed Ar­se­nal player Aaron Ram­sey as a ‘com­plete and ut­ter li­a­bil­ity’, and an­grily be­rated Arsene Wenger for of­fer­ing him a new con­tract.

To be fair, at the time he was in­deed a com­plete and ut­ter li­a­bil­ity.

But this sea­son, like a foot­ball equiv­a­lent of Lazarus, he’s been our best player.

And I have been mer­ci­lessly mocked for hav­ing the vi­sion­ary skills of a blind platy­pus.

To­day, Ram­sey was asked by The Guardian what he thought of my pre­vi­ous com­ments. He paused, and then, with ‘a smile and twin­kle in his eye’, replied: ‘Who’s Piers Mor­gan?’ If only he’d tack­led op­po­nents like that in 2013…


I’ve never played cricket in LA, un­til to­day.

As the fi­nale to BritWeek, a ‘ Hol ly­wood Ashes’ was or­gan­ised be­tween ac­tors and en­ter­tain­ment types from Eng­land and Aus­tralia. Lazenby played for the Aussies, and bat­ted like he played Bond – at­tempt­ing, and fail­ing, to smash ev­ery ball into a nearby field. ‘You haven’t swung like that since the Si xt ies!’ mocked one of our team.

‘Oh yes I f****** have!’ roared Ge­orge. When I went out to bat, I was greeted by so much sledg­ing (or ‘ver­bal men­tal dis­in­te­gra­tion’ as Shane Warne calls it) I thought I’d wan­dered into a Texas branch meet­ing of the Na­tional Ri­fle As­so­ci­a­tion.

A burly char­ac­ter called Brett Tucker, who stars in Mis­tresses, po­si­tioned him­self a few feet from me. ‘C’mon mate,’ he pleaded, ‘just plop one straight in my f****** hands like you want to!’

Three balls later, I duly plopped the ball straight in his f****** hands. Cue wild cel­e­bra­tions only marginally less muted than when Aus­tralia re­gained the real Ashes last win­ter. We lost the match, and the Hol­ly­wood Ashes.

La­dykiller: Ge­orge

Lazenby, aka 007 him­self James Bond

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Ireland

© PressReader. All rights reserved.