PIERS MORGAN DELICIOUSLY INDISCREET
MY LIFE AND OTHER CELEBRITIES
‘I stared at Jack Nicholson like a puppy, willing him to toss me a tiny bone’
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 29
My Good Morning Britain interview with Professor Stephen Hawking has made waves around the world. Particularly his answer about how he’d spend his last day if he knew the world was ending: ‘I’d be with my family, listening to Wagner, sipping champagne in the summer sun.’
‘How would YOU spend your last day?’ I asked my co-host Susanna Reid today.
‘Probably the same way,’ she replied. ‘You?’ I grinned and raised my right eyebrow. ‘What does THAT mean?’ ‘Well I don’t want to die wondering,’ I clarified.
Her face screwed into instant horror as the penny dropped. Then she stared at me for several seconds, slowly shaking her head before bursting out into fits of laughter.
‘You are incorrigible!’ she eventually gasped.
‘I’ll take that as another no then,’ I laughed.
As we went back on air, she was still giggling. ‘We were just discussing….’ I said. ‘THE WEATHER!’ she interrupted. ‘Let’s go to THE WEATHER.’
THURSDAY, MARCH 30
My 52nd birthday. If I could have scripted how it went, I’d be having dinner at Madeo, my favourite restaurant in Los Angeles, and my No 1 movie star and bucket-list interviewee Jack Nicholson would walk in and sit down at the next table.
We’d get talking, I’d buy him a very expensive bottle of Barolo and he’d end up agreeing to his first TV interview in over 40 years.
Well, tonight I was dining at Madeo and in came Nicholson, striding to the table next to mine. I wish I could say I stayed cool and exchanged the aforementioned calm words with the great man. But no, I just stared at him like a trembling, over-excited puppy, willing him to toss me even the simple tiny bone of acknowledgement. He didn’t. And eventually I left. But at least I can now die knowing my tombstone will read: ‘Here lies Piers Morgan. He once ate spaghetti Bolognese two feet from Jack Nicholson.’
FRIDAY, MARCH 31
At 6am I put myself through a gruelling spinning session at the SoulCycle gym in Beverly Hills used by the likes of Kim Kardashian and Charlize Theron.
I emerged dripping in sweat but bursting with energy and enthusiasm at the last screaming words of encouragement from my instructor: ‘This is going to be THE GREATEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE!’
(Along with this comical piece of advice: ‘Remember, guys, you can drink collagen too!’)
Then I got in my Aston Martin Rapide and promptly pranged it into another car, causing £20,000 worth of damage. To say this slightly dimmed my joy on this historic day is the understatement of the millennium.
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 12
Emily Ratajkowski, who along with Chrissy Teigen is one of my favourite celebrity dimwits, has made her name by posting endless naked selfies on social media in the absurdly inappropriate name of feminism.
Now she’s revealed that her mother had slightly loftier aspirations for her little girl.
‘My mum told people I’d be a brain surgeon,’ she disclosed, ‘because she didn’t like the idea that I would think my appearance was the only thing I was going to be valued for.’
God forbid any of us would draw that conclusion, Ms Ratajkowski!
THURSDAY, APRIL 13
I awoke at my Beverly Hills home to devastating news that a lady I’d never heard of named Ruby Tandoh has publicly rejected an invitation to appear on GMB.
She tweeted one of the show’s producers to say: ‘Hi, I know it’s just your job so no hard feelings but Piers Morgan is a sentient ham and frankly I’d rather die.’
It’s bad enough having to endure this nonsense from hypocritical stars like Ewan ‘I’m incredibly fond of [child rapist] Roman Polanski’ McGregor. But having to take it from someone who came second in The Great British Bake Off is an indignity too far.
Ruby, my darling, I had no idea who you were until today. I’m on holiday so wouldn’t have been in the studio anyway, and I have absolutely no desire ever interview you. Ever.
So pipe down you ludicrous creature and learn how to make better cakes.
FRIDAY, APRIL 14
By coincidence, the new GBBO cast was unveiled today, without Mary Berry or presenters Mel and Sue. Which is a bit like re-launching The Rolling Stones without Mick Jagger, Keith Richards or Charlie Watts.
Sandi Toksvig is one of the replacement hosts, a role she fulfilled for me recently after I pulled out of the Royal Television Society Programme Awards following a campaign to oust me by shrieking anti-Trump liberals.
She told the audience: ‘I think you can tell how much we’ve moved on when the least controversial choice for host is the foreign lesbian.’
TUESDAY, APRIL 18
In my New Year predictions I joked that Harper Beckham, five, would star in her own catwalk show at London Fashion Week and quoted father David as saying: ‘It was entirely her idea and absolutely nothing to do with me and Victoria exploiting our young kids to promote Brand Beckham.’ In the past week the Beckhams officially registered Harper’s name for commercial rights.
Today they released a video of her singing Happy Birthday to her mother. Having failed to promote Cruz, 12, as the new Justin Bieber, they’re clearly now trying to cash in on Harper as the new Shirley Temple. They truly have no shame.