I, Partridge: We Need to Talk About Alan
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Journalist, presenter, broadcaster, husband, father, vigorous all-rounder - Alan Partridge - a man with a fascinating past and an amazing future. Gregarious and popular, yet Alan's never happier than when relaxing in his own five-bedroom, south-built house with three acres of land and access to a private stream. But who is this mysterious enigma?
Alan Gordon Partridge is the best - and best-loved - radio presenter in the region. Born into a changing world of rationing, Teddy Boys, apes in space and the launch of ITV, Alan's broadcasting career began as chief DJ of Radio Smile at St. Luke's Hospital in Norwich. After replacing Peter Flint as the presenter of Scout About, he entered the top 8 of BBC sports presenters.But Alan's big break came with his primetime BBC chat show Knowing Me, Knowing You. Sadly, the show battled against poor scheduling, having been put up against News at Ten, then in its heyday. Due to declining ratings, a single catastrophic hitch (the killing of a guest on air) and the dumbing down of network TV, Alan's show was cancelled. Not to be dissuaded, he embraced this opportunity to wind up his production company, leave London and fulfil a lifelong ambition to return to his roots in local radio.
Now single, Alan is an intensely private man but he opens up, for the second time, in this candid, entertaining, often deeply emotional - and of course compelling - memoir, written entirely in his own words. (Alan quickly dispelled the idea of using a ghost writer. With a grade B English Language O-Level, he knew he was up to the task.)
He speaks touchingly about his tragic Toblerone addiction, and the painful moment when unsold copies of his first autobiography, Bouncing Back, were pulped like 'word porridge'. He reveals all about his relationship with his ex-Ukrainian girlfriend, Sonja, with whom he had sex at least twice a day, and the truth about the thick people who make key decisions at the BBC.
A literary tour de force, I, Partridge: We Need to Talk About Alan charts the incredible journey of one of our greatest broadcasters.
because of everything I went through. But Forbes McAllister is also a victim in a way, because of course he died. 102 Scott has continued acting, but now stars exclusively in gay pornography. Fortuitously, he has grown into the spitting image of Richard Gere, so has made a lucrative series of films that pay sodomical homage to Gere’s back catalogue: Gays of Heaven, Pretty Man and An Orifice and a Gentlehand. 103 Or rather: one of two. Don’t forget that I killed a man. Keep reading!! LOL.
destroying any traction his foot might have had with the floor. It shot forward and, with his balance now a distant memory, he came crashing to the floor. His back took the first hit, smashing against lino and cake with a bang – ‘bang’. His rump was next – ‘doof’ – followed by his skull – ‘crack’. And for a second he was motionless, before blood began to spill from the back of his head. As my father lay on the ground, the tension – much like the physical integrity of Dad’s skull – was broken.
out as me slapping my own face and saying ‘You have to get through this’ went on to become what Winning Management magazine describes as ‘nothing less than the advertised hour’. But there were still doubters – still are! In Britain, people are very wary of seeking help for problems that occur around the head, brain or mind. Why? If your car breaks down, you call the AA. If your mind breaks down, I’d say, call the AP.239 Actually, unlike the AA, AP doesn’t discriminate against middle-aged men.
one of the most trusted voices in Norfolk,263 I had a responsibility to be taken seriously. It wouldn’t do to have spent the entire show speaking like a quacking duck (which admittedly would be very funny) if I then had to read out an urgent newsflash about a dirty bomb going off in Wisbech. So that was where Denton would come in. Not specifically for the quacking (in fact, least of all for the quacking – animal noises were a glaring weakness of his), but just to be the person whose sole job it
I’ve come to know you. Shall we be friends? Yes, I think we shall. In a spiritual sense anyway, please don’t come to the house. It’s my belief that in the previous 309 pages we’ve been on a journey – literally in the case of those reading this on the train or bus, less so for those on the sofa, in bed, or reading aloud to a blind friend or lover. Now, however, as I ask that you play track 46,283 the time has come to bid you farewell. I have been through much in my life. I have scaled the