Born to Raise Hell: David Dimbleby

by philapilus
English: no original description

Another coke-fuelled harangue from the bad boy at the beeb

In this week’s ‘Born to Raise Hell’, our regular column about bad boys and dangerous girls, we interview TV hard man, David Dimbleby

David, you and your brother Jonathan have always been seen as real toughs, haven’t you?

Yes, I think so. This one time in 1972 we were in a car, and someone cut us up at the lights. Jonathan said ‘let’s get him’ and we drove really close to his bumper and shook our fists in the air. Madness. It was like we were the Krays.

You’ve recently had a tattoo done. Tell us about that?

Oh, well, that was nothing special. I was waiting for my delivery of Chateauneuf du Pape to turn up from the Wine Society, so I was feeling a little frisky. Thought I’d do something before hitting the bottle, you know?

Can you tell us about your wildest moment on TV?

Well, for a period of six months in 1995-6, I wore odd socks to every recording of Question Time. And then once in 2001 I didn’t wear any socks at all, because I stepped in a puddle outside the studio, and got my feet wet. Crazy times.

What’s this rumour that you had your cock out beneath the camera-frame whilst commentating on Margaret Thatcher’s state funeral?

It’s a slight exaggeration. My fly was undone about halfway. My producer said ‘David! You’re flying low! Is this some sort of protest?’, and I just laughed and said, ‘Ha, well, Thatcher deserves a bit of disrespect.’ But I did the zip up again, just to be on the safe side.

Can you tell us about your mishap with the bull on your farm? Some say you were doing an impromptu matador-act.

Oh good god, no. Bulls are very dangerous. I mean, I’m a guy who’s crazy with a capital ‘c’ and everything, but that would just be demented.

Do you live by a personal motto, you know; ‘live fast die young’, something like that?

Very much so. I have always thought Horace’s carpe diem was quite good, but I think you have to add the caveat that one must be especially quick about it because, as we all know, tempus fugit!

Finally, David, after a life in the fast lane, of what wild act are you most proud?

Once I was lunching in Bray, and I stopped off by the river to feed the ducks. A little old lady dropped a fifty pence piece, and instead of telling her, I picked it up and kept it. It was rock and fl*pping roll! Actually, would you mind not printing that? I could go to prison.

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