Celebrities I have known: Part 2 - Phil Campbell

This is one I have considered posting for a while. I have kept quiet about what happened to me for so long but why should I be portrayed as a bad person for something that was beyond my control?

When I first moved back from Los Angeles way back in 2002, I missed my adopted home and Mike so much that I started drinking more than I should have. It was the start of a very dark period in my life. I was living in Swansea and completing my final year of uni, sharing a house with two grad students. We were not exactly bonding as my head and heart were elsewhere but we all shared a love of music so I suggested we all go see Motorhead together. The gig was as you would expect; loud and sweaty with dirty little Newport boys copping a feel in the pit... After the show, my roomies wanted to meet some "celebs" (they were jealous of my LA exploits - more another day) so we went round to the stage door to wait for the band (I personally was waiting for John Bush from Anthrax because I've always wanted to spank him...). Phil came outside and I was overwhelmed by how much he looked like Mike; I ignored the subtle differences like Phil was 2 years younger but looked 10 years older and Mike had a damn fine body. I grabbed a quick photo and Phil was very friendly.

Back in Swansea, I found myself thinking less about Mike and focusing more on Phil (I now know that this kind of rebounding is pointless and painful but I was only 21 and didn't know any better). I got involved with the Motorhead fan forum (again, I should know better as online communities are always full of weirdos and stalkers) and added Phil's portrait to my extensively tattood leg; it's covered in guitarists, you see... I also heavily promoted Phil in the 100 Welsh Heroes poll, eventually getting him into the top 20. I continued with my studies and finished my final year of my BA. At graduation, my dad's uncle gave me some money so I flew back to Los Angeles and caught up with Mike. Things were, of course, not the same anymore; he would now openly flirt with other women right in front of me (I always knew he was a whore but he used to try to protect me because I was so young and naive). I returned to the UK and enrolled for a masters degree at Swansea. A Motorhead tour rolled around and I got in touch with my now ex roomies and we met up in Wolverhampton to see the band again. We waited around after the show for a few more photos and Phil came out to say hi. I asked him to sign my leg so that could be tattood too. Previously, Phil's friend Tim had told him about me (I miss Tim dearly; one of the many people I have lost contact with over the years) so Phil knew who I was. He gave me a couple of hugs and his email address. This would have been in the October of 2003, I guess.

Back to uni again. Phil and I exchanged emails for a couple of months and then in early January 04 he asked for my phone number as he wanted to ask me something. I didn't think anything of it, of course. About a week later, he asked me to help him write his autobiography. I knew nothing about this kind of thing but I loved to write so I jumped at the chance. I went and nagged my lecturers who had been published about all of the tricks of the business and then started the huge task of researching the project. How I actually managed to earn my Masters is beyond me as Phil became my number one priority from then on. I guess I am lucky in that my subject for my MA was something I loved and it's not like I am stupid or anything.

Phil went off to LA to record an album (Inferno? I'm sorry if my dates are slightly vague; as I said previously, I was drinking heavily throughout this period). He took to calling me at random hours of the day and night. I would drop everything and talk to him. My social life disintegrated as I wanted Phil to always be able to catch me whenever he wanted to. I know. Pathetic. During this time, I was still involved with the forum and was coming under more and more personal attacks just because I promoted the band. I wont get into the small minded behaviour of certain individuals. I am a true believer in karma so they will get theirs. Like my psycho ex roommate, eh? Saggy-fake-red-headed-unbalanced-bitch-whore :p

Anyway.

My MA completed, I moved to Newport to try to decide what to do with myself. I couldn't afford the PhD yet and the intention was still to eventually move back to LA. Mike or not, it still felt like home. Work on the book was progressing slowly but surely. I interviewed various people, including Phil and was building up a rather huge box of notes. Also during this time, I was also building up a huge Motorhead memorabilia collection, all purchased on ebay. More on that later, though. I was working by now but debts were beginning to mount up. After all, travel, paper, Dictaphone tapes, etc, all have an effect.

Funny story. The day of Motorhead's gig in Bristol in 2004, I fell down the stairs and broke my ankle. I wouldn't admit I was hurt, though, as I was so desperate to get some work done on the book, so I just strapped my ankle up and carefully slid into my Uggs. Silly. I still suffer from the odd twinge when the weather turns cold.

2005 now. More research and writing, more abuse from trolls, more stress. My hair started to fall out and I was gaining weight because I was too distracted to work out. I head to London for Motorhead's 25th anniversary gig with Aimee (someone who I thought was my friend but I later discovered she was just a user bitch. Moving on...). I get a call from my elderly mother to say Phil has been on the phone, telling her about the pornography he has spent the night watching and asking if he can call her back later. I am straight on the phone to him, angry but containing myself. He asks me to come to his hotel. I have half straightened hair, no makeup, and I can't get my contacts in but me and Aimee race across London. I leave her in Ann Summers while I head to the hotel. I am greeted by Phil in a hat, a shirt, and a pair of socks. Pretty. We chat for a while and then I head back to meet Aimee so we can have lunch.

Phil hooks us up with passes and me and Aimee say hi at the after show (and I drink 6 pints of Carling because they don't sell anything else at the Carling Academy.... whatever...). We have a brief chat but there are loads of girls clamouring for Phil's attention so me and Aimee head back to our hotel.

Later in the year, another supposed friend invites me to Germany to see the band and Phil and I agree it will be a great chance to work on the book. I do quite a bit of interviewing in Hamburg (including in Phil's dressing room bathroom) and me and my friend go bar hopping with Pete Sempel afterwards (lovely guy). Mikkey Dee recognised me in a bar and was super-nice to me (considering I am not blond with huge tits).

Then we go to Herford.

This is where it all goes horribly wrong.

I do more interviewing, etc. Phil waves at me several times during the gig and stuff and meets me almost straight afterwards. He has something on the tour bus for me (I don't remember what... I know he gave me a AAA pass for the upcoming UK leg of the tour but I am sure there was something else too...) so we head out there alone. He then starts telling me how lonely he is and how his wife is never there for him and I suffer an extreme lapse in judgement...

I wont talk about what happened next. I never will. Or maybe I will when I write my own autobiography - "Stupid things I have done whilst intoxicated".

I head to my friend's apartment in a state of shock. Was it prompted by rational thought? Was it totally retarded? Was it even worth it? I was so confused. I still am.

UK tour. I get the impression Phil is avoiding me. When we bump into each other, he says he will come back to speak to me and then runs off and disappears. I start to get more and more depressed. After all, I wasn't the one who initiated the Herford event, no matter what anyone says. I wanted to just forget it and get the book written. I had put almost two years of pure dedication into it and I did not want to see if fail.

Half way through the tour, I just can't take it anymore. I have debt collectors chasing me and my health is suffering severely. I head home and start trying to get myself sorted out. It is too late though. I lose my job just before Christmas and enter a period of very deep depression, during which I do not leave my house at all. This lasts for three months. Phil sends me an abrupt text accusing me of doing something I had no knowledge of. When I ask him to clarify, he ignores me. I send some very emotional emails that I now regret (why should that ingrate take pleasure in my suffering?).

After word gets out that Phil is no longer talking to me, all those people who I thought were my friends drop me. I never realised at the time but they were all using me to get closer to Phil and the band. Perhaps this is where my trust issues now come from... Some people start claiming that Phil told them we had an argument and this information is disseminated all over the internet. There was never any argument. I was too weak to even defend myself, let alone fight.

I decided that I had to sort out my finances (I couldn't find work) so I started to sell my record collection plus my entire Motorhead memorabilia collection. All I left myself was my beloved Cozy Powell autograph and a few Queen limited editions. One of the many things I listed on ebay was kind of like a Motorhead tour book. I had purchased it on ebay from one of Motorhead's crew. I never even looked at it so just relisted it, clearly stating where I had got it from. On the last day of the auction, I received a very aggressive email from Motorhead's manager who said that Phil said I had stolen this book thing from him (errm... what the fuck?) and that they were now going to sue me. I should have said "Bring it on, you illiterate bully" but instead I pulled the auction and disposed of the book and patiently waited for the lawyers. I'm still waiting...

By this point, I knew there was no hope of redemption. I poured the contents of my booze cupboard down the sink, gave away the last of my Motorhead stuff to a homeless shelter in Cardiff, and burned the book notes. Nothing has given me greater pleasure before or since. I know it was pointless to destroy my own work but there was no chance I could ever publish without Phil's involvement and I wanted to be sure that my mother would not be threatened by lawsuits if I died and left the notes behind.

I was back on my feet. I took a job I didn't particularly want to do but I now love (I also met Kay on my first day and she's the best thing that could have happened to me) and I am back studying which is what I enjoy most. I even have the strength to travel again. The dark moments still occasionally return and alcohol is still a problem but I am much stronger. I can drink socially and I know I am a good person (who made some bad decisions) so I will get there in the end.

Phil crops up sometimes. I have his face tattood on my body twice. People ask me about it and I brush it off as a youthful mistake. I don't go into detail. If I win the lottery, though, the laser clinic will be my first stop. That pig does not deserve even an inch of my body.

Another funny story. Kay was in work one Saturday (I was rostered off) and she called me all excited. Kristy had gone to see Motorhead the night before and had got back stage. She was ranting about "that filthy horrible pervert Phil Campbell. I can't fucking stand him! Degenerate freak!" and Kay couldn't help but laugh. Little did Kristy know. I miss Kristy dearly. She died of cancer while she was still in her early twenties.

I now expect a lot of abuse for my posting this. I also expect more threats from lawyers but I am ready. Everything I have said is factual and I am tired of hiding.

Finally, I should thank Phil. I was a very strong, independent young woman before I met Mike and I am now again a strong, independent (though slightly older) woman.

Funny how things turn out.

Review: Rudolph Valentino: A Wife's Memories Of An Icon

*

I excitedly bought this for my Kindle as I had already read pretty much everything there is to read about Valentino (good and bad) except Rambova's book. The more I read, though, the more disgusted I became.

I will make this clear; I have no problem with Rambova's text. There are the odd errors that were addressed in Madam Valentino but it is a strong, emotional at times, record of her view of her late ex-husband.

My issue, though, is what Hala Pickford has done to the text. All through the book, "Ms Pickford" has interjected her own views on various subjects. If she wanted to review the book, why didn't she post a review on one of her many extensive blogs? I'm reading a book, not the literary review section of some backwater high school newspaper. I find her obtrusive comments actually offensive. I don't want to hear her opinions about various aspects of Valentino's life and see her passing judgement on those who were his friends. The fact that she dismisses one ongoing debate about Valentino's personal life as "ridiculous" just sums up her blinkered immature view. OK, everyone is tired of the question of whether Rudy was homosexual or not but if it gets people talking about him 105 years after he was born, so be it. Don't alienate people by discrediting their thoughts and views.

What will Hala Pickford do next? Reissue Day Dreams with her interpretations of every single poem slapped right in the way?

I assume that Pickford views herself as some sort of editor? Well any decent editor would correct errors in a text (either with a note or that ever-present [sic] thingy. Violet Dana? You don't mean that truly wonderful woman Viola Dana by any chance, do you? This is not the only basic factual error that made me grind my teeth.

Another issue is the formatting. I am not sure if this is a Kindle thing but there will be an asterisk, etc, for a note and then the footnote will appear in a totally random place later on in the text. By the time you get to the note, you have forgotten what it related to. By the time you have worked through her ramblings, you have forgotten what you just read in the main text. If Pickford really feels the need to insert her ideas, why not save them to the end and have a list of appropriate end notes? As it is, it's distracting and annoying. Another formatting issue is there are several lines that get repeated. I am unsure if this is due to a Kindle fault or poor proof-reading. I will not currently assign blame on this one until I know better.

My final issue is the big one... One of Pickford's notes says that if you visit her website, you can hear Valentino speak. I was under the impression that the only available recordings of Rudy were the two songs that are widely available. But lo! Hala has found an exclusive recording and she is willing to share it with us! I excitedly visit her website and you never guess what! Her exclusive recording of Valentino speaking is those very same songs. I do not appreciate people lying in order to get attention.

So I would strongly recommend that you do NOT buy this book until the above issues have been addressed. It is a waste of money and will actually turn off new discoverers of Valentino. Read Dark Lover, Madam Valentino, and save up for an original copy of Natacha's book.

New year, new me, etc

My latest health kick has evolved fairly naturally.

I have not used plastic water bottles for years; I used a glass one that I would replace once a month. I decided for many reasons to give up on the glass (including the waste when I replace them, the fact that my bottles were Perrier and I have been a part of the Nestle boycott for years so felt stupid for still buying it, also that Perrier have switched to plastic bottles and only one local supermarket still has the glass ones in stock). So I decided to buy a couple of (vegan approved) stainless steel water bottles. They hold 700ml (a Perrier bottle holds 750) so I decided I would need the two for in work. I have been taking both in with me every day (it's only filtered tap water but it is nicer than the stuff out of the cooler at work). I am now drinking the entire contents of both (1400ml) every day, including days off when I used to be really naughty and not drink any water at all. Also, due to the bad snow here, I have been taking a large travel mug full of nettle and fennel tea to work every morning so that is an extra 500ml of fluid and then in the evenings I have a small cup of Barley Cup with a bit of soy milk (about 300ml). Bingo! Finally got my fluid intake into the kind of range it should be in.

Along with the above, I've only had one drink since New Years (a small glass of Ameretto my mother gave me after I got caught in the snow) as I just don't fancy it anymore. AND! Due to the snow, I haven't been able to drive to/from the train station so have been walking (about 6 miles each way) so my exercise is way up.

I've so far dropped 4lbs in a week.

I'm also trying my best to cut out sugar (it's a bad addiction) and I'm playing on Wii Fit Plus on my days off (3 a week) plus I have My Fitness Coach Cardio (not as fun as the original) and the new EA Active so I hope to be all svelte by the time we next head to LA. More importantly, though, I feel better and do not feel like I have been drugged all the time. I am still sleeping a lot but I do work 11 hour shifts so that is not much of a surprise.

In other news, we had 8cm of snow yesterday so I still can't go jeans shopping. I've only been waiting 3 weeks though... Also my death blog seems really popular and I have an assignment due next week.

Life is pretty good.

It's snowing...

The boys enjoying the first dusting.



When it started to get a little heavier...

Luckily I already had the day off work as there are no trains running and I can't get my car off the drive. About to go collect a bucket of sand so I can start gritting my road (the council wont do it as it is a private road) so that I can get to work Friday.