CLIVE FOR A DAY

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EV­ERY­ONE who isn’t called Clive has won­dered at some point what it would be like to be called Clive, and they’re ly­ing if they say they haven’t. But with so many Clives to choose from, which would YOU pick and why? We rounded up three of our fave celebs who aren’t called Clive and asked them one sim­ple ques­tion: if you could spend a whole day as a Clive, which Clive would you choose?

Sad­dam Hus­sein, de­ceased dic­ta­tor

I FA­MOUSLY POPPED my clogs back in 2006, when I was hung from the neck un­til dead. As such, if I could be any Clive For A Day, I’d prob­a­bly choose CLIVE AN­DER­SON, for the sim­ple rea­son that he has no neck. I could then nip back to that fate­ful day 12 years ago, and bam­boo­zle my would-be ex­e­cu­tion­ers, who’d all be scratch­ing their heads, try­ing to fig­ure out how to string me up! Plus, An­der­son trained as a bar­ris­ter be­fore be­com­ing a co­me­dian, so I would be able to use my new­found le­gal nous to try and get my­self off the hook. And if that didn’t work, I would sim­ply hurl light-hearted abuse at my lynch mob un­til they stormed off in fury, like The Bee Gees.

Pro­fes­sor Brian Cox, tou­sle-haired as­tro­physi­cist

I EARN MY CRUST by fan­ny­ing about with com­plex, modern things like long-range tele­scopes, Large Hadron Col­lid­ers and elec­tronic syn­the­siz­ers, and oc­ca­sion­ally I find my­self yearn­ing for a sim­pler time. So if I was Clive For A Day, I think I’d be CLIVE DUNN, whose 1971 hit sin­gle Gran­dad found him rem­i­nisc­ing fondly about Penny Farthings and phono­graphs and all that sort of stuff. I’d spend my day as Clive sat in a com­fort­able rock­ing chair, wear­ing a flat cap whilst melod­i­cally re­call­ing the hal­cyon days of yore. And then, 24 hours later, I would re­turn to my fu­tur­is­tic synth-stab­bing and star-gaz­ing with a new­found fer­vour and zeal.

Ice T, gangsta rap icon

IF I COULD BE any Clive For A Day, I reckon I’d be CLIVE SWIFT. I ab­so­lutely love Keep­ing Up Ap­pear­ances, and Clive’s hi­lar­i­ous per­for­mance as hen-pecked hus­band Richard Bucket has kept me chuck­ling away on many a long tour bus jour­ney. Once I had trans­formed into Clive, I would in­vite a few pals over who are also fans of the show - such as P Diddy, Ice Cube and Ghost­face Kil­lah - and then I’d amuse them all by repli­cat­ing the ex­as­per­ated face Clive used to pull when­ever Hy­acinth shrieked, “The Bou­quet res­i­dence, the lady of the house speak­ing!” We’d all fall about laugh­ing un­til the clock struck mid­night and I turned back into my nor­mal self again.

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