Tabloid Tales

My time at Sounds music magazine was a dream come true. It was a great laugh and money for old rope (a bit like being a solicitor though unlike them you had a moral code).

Every day was an adventure and wherever I lay my hat that was my home - but with `hindsight` I was still looking for love.

I couldnt find either at the time so wasted my life doing drugs, sleeping around and getting drunk.
My teenage years and bachelor days lasted longer then most - but eventually `burning the candle` at both ends would catch up with me.

It screwed me big-time. Wasted, broke and weighing not much more than 9 stone I holed up in a friends place for a month to `clean up` and emerged with a new look and outlook on life.

I no longer wanted to be Ziggy Stardust and thanx to Garry Bushell I blagged a cool job in Fleet Street.
And the story of my rise from `punk poet` to `Number One Showbiz tipster` working for Piers Morgan will be revealed in the book version of this online extract.

Mr Bushell hired me as a roving reporter for his gossip column. It was my job to find out who was bonking who and becoming `best mates` with Columbian marching powder.

It was a fantastic job and I`m proud to say I came up with dozens of front-page stories and hundreds of world exclusives.

The punk writer who discovered me singing in a East End pub was now a TV star and Editor of the most influential showbiz column in the UK.
And he gave me a entry into the wonderful and wacky world of showbiz.

I met everyone from Michael Jackson to Charlie Kray, Dale Winton, Samantha Fox, George Michael, Georgie Best.
Soap stars like Barbara Windsor, Bradley Walsh, Ross Kemp, Bobby Davro, TV tough guys Billy Murray and Jimmy Nail.
I got as pissed as a parrot with Noddy Holder and out of my head with Ozzy Osbourne.
And when I shook hands with David Bowie I didnt wash my hand for a week.

They are just a few of the famous faces I got to meet and hangout with - not bad for a borstal boy with no qualifications.

I was the poor Jewish boy `made good` although I wasnt Jewish.

I`ve even got `close` to a Miss World contestant (admitedly she didnt win - but she was a contender) that I met at the Video Cafe next to The London Palladium.

It was a fun time and my `brief` was to checkout showbiz parties and hangout in West End clubs like Stringfellows.

It was hard work but someone had to do it.

I was a `babe magnet` but not because of my `good looks` (I didnt have any). I was a ugly bastard with a big nose and a Rod Stewart barnet but what I did have was the `gift of the gab` and VIP passes to backstage parties at major rock gigs.

It was a dream gig, girls galore, free champers and the best Charlie in town - but looking back I was still looking for love.

Lust is no substitute for true love (a f***ing romantic or what? LOL)

I ended up living with a Canadian girl near Harrods. She was older then me and worked as a Press Officer for Spandau Ballet.
She was worldy wise and my own Mrs Robinson. There was something about her accent and the fact that she looked like Joan Jett from The Runaways and I Love Rock and Roll fame that attracted me.

Have you twigged that she wasnt blonde? My one and only girlfriend who wasnt a natural or bottle blonde.

How our romance ended I will save for the book - as I dont want my kids to know. The end is still something I am ashamed of - It was nothing nasty - but something happened that went against my `personal beliefs`.

I am half-Irish - and that is the only clue I`m giving for now!

At one time I `hungout` with Nikie, a sexy Sloanie type in South Kensington who introduced me to the Chelsea Arts Club, Lulu`s brother and her `Lipstick Lesbian` chums - and in return I introduced her to the delights of pie and mash and East End pubs.

Again she was older than me - and maybe I was looking for a `mother figure`? Aint it funny I have gone from fancying women 8 years older then me to `falling` for a `stunner` a few years my junior LOL.

I have a decade of amazing stories and showbiz scams and they will all appear in the book.

Then I met the gorgeous girl who would become my wife and the mother of my three children.
It was mutual `love at first sight` and within 12 weeks we were married.

And I honestly thought it would last forever.

I quit drugs, stopped drinking and became a house-husband and `hands on` Dad.

I swapped the rock`n`roll dream and shambolic but highly paid lifestyle for various `deadend jobs`.

I was a postman, a labourer, a warehouse worker - but I was happy.

For me being a top dad was the best job in the whole world and I was `bloody good at it`.

A f***ing natural. I was born to be a dad.

I dream constantly of the family life that I took for granted and expected to last forever. I have vivid dreams about my daughter every night.

I miss her and my family life on a daily basis. I want it back, but I know that will never happen and that it is gone forever.
That is why I sleep a lot. Its the only time I see my daughter.

For me a a good nights sleep and a brilliant dream is better then screwing Page 3 wannabess or any cocaine high.

It is only when I`m sleeping that I get to see my daughter. I have wonderful lucid dreams where we are cuddling, talking, laughing, kissing or playing in the garden and I get to tell her "I love you babe" before waking up in a cold sweat.

In the early days I would wake up crying - but time is a great healer - I no longer cry and just feel sad.

It has been 4 years since we were seperated by her mother`s adultery and the aftermath.

I dont see PRINCESS because my sons refuse all contact with their mother - and in a pure act of evil she has punished me by saying:
"If the boys wont see me - you aint seeing your daughter" and with the help of a corrupt legal system she has untill now got away with it.

But all that is about change and I will after 4 long years be re-united with my daughter.

The truth is I never gave up hope of seeing my little Princess.

I knew that one day I would hold her in my arms, take her to the park, the pictures, bowling, panto, buy her sweets or cook her breakfast.

I am upset now because speaking about my daughter...it brings out the `tears in me` - I miss my daughter so much.
And that is why I did what I did in 2006 - I `attacked` the pervert and pimp who said such disgusting things about my `little Princess`.
He was visited by `heavies` but luckily for him he was out - (and with hindsight me) - as I could be writing this from Bellmarsh LOL.

I named Grimson in public - I had had him `slaughtered` - I put three bullets in his fat ugly head - but I did it abut I did it in in print - not on the streets of Wickford - yet I still ended up in a top security prison.