Bill Oddie is a British presenter, musician, ‘comedian’, ornithologist and interminable excremental smear, most famous for his TV shows ‘The Goodies’ and ‘Spring/Autumn Watch‘, but is perhaps best known for having a face and voice which could infuriate a drugged shaman.
Bilious Herod Oddiowski OBE (Ornithologist Bellend Extraordinaire) was born on 29th February 1940 in Stonehenge in a standard ritualistic Pagan birth. Attending witnesses and well-wishers cite that Oddie began ‘crowning’ at the exact point the sermon master began chanting a medley of racist limericks and demonic incantations.
He was born to Romany Gypsy parents, Eugene Oddiowski; a well respected Cockfight referee and his reluctant wife and housemaid Tabatha. Tabatha suffered aggravated Bells Palsy but never allowed her affliction hinder a busy and exploited life, single handedly raising 14 children and 7 prized Llama on a budget afforded by collecting change from wishing wells. Oddie has since revealed that his father would distastefully mock his ailed spouse, regularly referring to her as ‘Hindenburg Head’ in what was an upsetting home life for young Bilious.
Oddie was a strange and reclusive child and spent much of his early years studying his reflection in puddles for hours on end whilst gurning incessantly. He had very few friends even within the close-knitted nomadic community in which he resided and his one friend and confidante was a dead, rotting duckling named Ivor which Bilious is said to have killed himself with his catapult during a typical bout of spasmodic rage.
He was renowned for his animal cruelty amongst the community and there are accounts varying from gassing wasps to throttling a ferret unconscious at a family wedding when aged just 9.
In his early teens, Bill revealed that he had an epiphany which would change the course of his life forever. “It was fucking barmy mate, like a moth in a sun bed” he later told Michael Parkinson during an infamous television appearance. In the incident, during one of his prolonged puddle-staring days, he lost balance, fell face-first into the puddle and began to drown. He claims he would have perished were it not for the intervention of a local heron who nudged him aside to have a drink.
Bill said that his whole life flashed before his eyes and a bearded apparition foretold him that the Final Judgement would call upon his sins and that birds were his messianic saviours, his figurative winged angel-on-earth. “Quite why soppy bollocks didn’t just lift himself out of the puddle, or roll over, or just turn his head is fucking beyond me. Then again, he’s always had the brains of a dog’s bollock, that one” reported the attending Village Practitioner, Dr Grantham Fox.
The incident left Oddie with a profound fear of the afterlife and this newfound benevolence manifested itself in strange affectations. At the age of 16, he threw his bed out of the window and proclaimed from that day forth, he would live from a self-built nest in the corner of his bedroom. Unfortunately, his bold vow was not supported by the requisite cognitive aptitude to build a proficient, nor even a recognisable nest. Often his attempts culminated in Bill stubbornly sleeping atop a pile of broken sticks; and does so to this day. (citation needed).
Dr Fox suggested that this acted only to exacerbate his already bubbling mental decline, “Well just imagine it? Sleeping on a load of sticks all poking into your organs and that. How are you supposed to sleep and keep a level head if you spend 50% of your life with a crooked branch lancing your spleen?”
After finally graduating from Orkney Islands University with a BA in Comedic Tomfoolery after 10 years of failed exams and repeated terms, Oddie’s first break in television came after a reported letter to Jimmy Saville in which he bribed the star to use his influence and stature at the BBC to get him his own show. The letter claimed that Oddie would contact to police to inform them that he had been brutally abused by Saville, or as he came to know him, ‘Uncle Stop it’, following an appearance on his ’Jim’ll Fix it’ show aged 31.
Oddie had appeared on the show after asking for Jim to ‘fix it’ for him to do a peregrine falcon handling course and had used his childhood near-death experience as a mewing sob-story. Saville had empathised with Bill and despite his age, agreed to allow him to appear on the show.
This incident only came to light in 1999 when Saville wrote in his autobiography – Sit on my knee and your dreams will come true‘;
“I was fucking livid. I had put my reputation on the line for that bearded tit when I allowed him on the show and how did he repay me? When we met for the show he immediately stripped naked and forced my hand on to his crotch while an accomplice took a picture. He then proceeded to bribe me to get him a show claiming that no-one would believe me as I certainly looked like a rabid sex offender. Against mine, and my lawyer’s better judgement, we agreed he had a point and reluctantly yielded to the pressure arranging for him to have a show commissioned called ‘The Goodies’. I did insist it was on the proviso that we draft in 2 capable co-presenters who could at least make the show vaguely fucking watchable. If I ever see that manipulative little shit ever again I’ll kick him in the liver”
Upon release of the book in 1999, Bill Oddie claimed that Saville was ‘a decrepit, moccasin-faced liar who probably can’t remember that he’s still alive, never mind event’s 25 years previous’. Oddie sued Saville for the claims and, in a landmark case, won £142,000 damages with Saville’s book being immediately withdrawn.
With the addition of 2 co-presenters, ‘The Goodies’ became a baffling success and even resulted in a hit single ‘The Funky Gibbon’; believed to be a coded reference to Saville.
The onset of puberty and testosterone surges at the age of 19 added a further dimension to his fragile character; an irksome and dangerous dimension. His suppressed anger and rage towards animals had found a new outlet through his newfound interest in (human) females. Friends and family have reported that he swiftly became a staunchly misogynist, lustful ogre; later dubbing women as “titted grief receptacles” in an infamous interview with Cosmopolitan Magazine.
These sentiments towards women began mildly in his early twenties, usually resulting in him spending time alone in his bedroom, drawing increasingly demented drawings of naked women with snarling panther’s mouths instead of vaginas.
By his mid-thirties, these quirks had escalated to appalling behaviour towards women. A known womaniser, Oddie has been repeatedly subject to ‘Kiss and Tell’ stories, throughout his life. One conquest, a dyspraxic Zimbabwean Paralympic female wrestler Ekundu Olawe, told The Sun that Oddie would habitually recite Ted Bundy’s prison memoirs during sordid intercourse.
In undoubtedly the most overt example of his chauvinistic persuasion, Oddie is reported to have met his wife during a stag party in Swansea where he lassoed his future spouse with a VIP velvet rope and dragged her back to his Travel Lodge without saying a single word.
Never a stranger to controversy, Bill hit the headlines in 1984 for a bizarre incident involving Terry Nutkins. Nutkins was hosting one of his legendary Really Wild Show after-parties when an ambulance was mysteriously called to his Surrey mansion due to an incident quickly shrouded from the swarming press.
After a week of unexplained hermitry, Nutkins finally appeared before the press with a bandaged hand and released a statement announcing that he had lost the tip of his finger in a seemingly implausible story of otter hi jinx. The same day, reports surfacing in the tabloids contained an emerging scandal; a topless waiter serving at the party, known only as Renoir, claimed in the News Of The World that it was in fact Bill Oddie who had been responsible for Nutkins severed digit. The allegation suggested that Oddie and Nutkins had become embroiled in an argument after Oddie had drunkenly defaced a priceless decorative stoat before calling Michaela Strachan a ‘venomous, prehistoric frill-necked lizard’. Nutkins snapped and lunged at Oddie who – during the ensuing scuffle – removed the stars finger with a fish slice.
Oddie’s management company Oddie Representz Plc quickly moved to deny the allegations and within days, the NOTW had published an apology for ‘inaccuracies’ and Oddie was paid £113,000 damages. Just one week later Renoir committed suicide; asphyxiating himself by lodging a large golf umbrella down his own oesophagus and opened it during his sleep, accordingly to his autopsy report.
Art Attack star Neil Buchanan – a dignitary at Nutkins’ soiree – described in a TV Interview for Newsnight that the media reports on the incident were “fanciful and salacious dredge guffed from the collective bruised riggot of a gaggle of media fauntleroy’s”. A police inquiry was filed on the incident when, during his TV appearance, Buchanan seemed to display visible trauma to his lips, wrists and temples, cried throughout and was found with a crumpled note reading the exact quote he had provided to reporters, written in Oddies unmistakably mangled handwriting.
Buchanan refused to press charges or admit to any of the claims and was soon admitted to Styal Prison for female offenders after stealing a police car and crashing in to a grit bin, following a period of boozy decline.
Rumours were rife at this stage of Oddies underworld might. He is alleged to have affiliated himself to a notorious gypsy-catching gang in Kings Lynn known as The Peoples Fist of Norfolk (PFN), being photographed with gang leader known locally as The Ham Dagger (Real name Colin Snodberry) after they met at a dog shooting range in Gaywood, Norfolk.
In an infamous interview with the Observer, Oddie’s now time-ravaged mother furiously lambasted her son for renouncing his traveller roots and associating with vicious gypsy catchers. “If that treacherous little gizoid’s father was still alive he’d turn in his grave. He wouldn’t be in a grave would he? Well, if he was dead he’d turn in his grave..hang on, he is dead…Look, lets not get bogged down on semantics, I hope the little Judas, chaffinch-fingering, hairy hessian sack of gelatinous disappointment shares solitary confinement in Hell with Liberace. Hang on, it wouldn’t be solitary would it? Oh just get off my fucking doorstep.”
It became widely known amongst executive circles at the BBC that Oddie was using his nature programmes as a front to undertake reconnaissance missions for the PFN, strolling around arable countryside under ornithological masquerade ,while in fact hunting and observing travelling gypsies. Despite these fears, no action was taken by the BBC against Oddie amid claims that an influential shareholder in the Beeb was a coveted Gypsy Catcher and known affiliate of the PFN.
Depression and Dependency
In 1997, to allay concerns over increasingly erratic behaviour, Oddies publicist Max Clifford announced that his client had been long been suffering from bi-polar depression and lived on a cocktail of MOAI’s (Monoamine Oxidaze Inhibitors) or as Bill called them, Shouty-Stoppers. However, as with all of his brushes with the press, rumours of a cover up were spreading like wildfire.
The Ipswich Gazette published a story that his depression was being drastically understated as a PR ruse to cover the truth that Oddie, now unappeased by standard mood stabilisers, had become hooked on sucking the potent chemicals from urinal cakes. Within hours the story had spread across the world, reaching headline infamy as far as Tokyo and The Gabon; the scandal becoming irreverently known in the media as ‘Troffgate’.
This was soon followed by pictures in the Sheffield Guardian appearing to show Oddie, trouserless, rifling though a pub store room in the frantic hunt for more urinal cubes after gorging on them for hours.An onlooker said he was shouting that he was ‘rooting for truffles’ and was ‘giggling like a giddy tit’ before being tenaciously ejected by several regular patrons of the drinking hole. Oddie’s management company released an official statement explaining;
“On behalf of Bill Oddie and all of his fans, I would like to condemn both the smutty local rag for printing this bile horrifically out of context, and the braying blue-collar stooge who tried to oink a quick buck from peddling rubberneckers hogwash. The photograph taken of Bill in the cupboard illustrates nothing more than his innate care and almost paternal altruism for birds. When passing to use the restroom, Bill heard the unmistakable cry of an adolescent thrush in peril coming from said cupboard, and was trying desperately to rescue the stricken bird. The other pictures show Bill simply enjoying a large packet of a particular brand of rectangular Gobstopper of which he is extremely partial. “
Just three months later, Oddie was again wracked in controversy after a surreal incident at Bruges airport after a boozy European weekend break. He arrived at the airport for his return flight visibly inebriated, dressed only in a neon Dashiki and carrying what transpired to be a leopards head in a duty free carrier bag. Upon being accosted by airport security Oddie became furious, proclaiming that he was the King of Tiffin and could have each of them beheaded with one phone call (citation needed). The origins and relevance of the Leopards head was never uncovered despite extensive investigation. Under PFN-lead government pressure, Oddie was swiftly extradited back to the UK where he was immediately released without charge.
Oddies career reached an all-time disaster chasm in 1992 when he ‘shat’ himself on stage during a televised live Goodies performance of ‘Funky Gibbon’ on a Top of the Pops special. Half way through the cult number, almost as though unaware of the microphones presence, Oddie squirmed before the startled audience “oh my bastard Christ, batten the hatches, code Brown…no…it’s. ..it’s…yes, its too late” before throwing down the microphone and jogging off stage. He later attributed the episode to an under-poached quail he’d had for breakfast; while tabloid prattle used the mishap to further dramatise his substance dependency.
In similarly recurring theme of circumstance, Oddie launched a lucratively successful defamation of character and libel lawsuit against Heat Magazine, who reported the widely-rumoured claim that Bill had again ‘shat’ himself while presenting a lifetime comedy award to Bradley Walsh at the 2001 BAFTA Awards. Walsh said of the incident “we all fackin’ ‘eard it din’t we? There was a fackin’ roar like a walrus bein’ disembowelled and then a tiddly wink that stripped the enamel off me fackin’ coral reef.”
Since 1979 Bill has been ‘happily’ married to El Salavador native Paulina, an extravagant cabaret singer who was born with Kleinfelter’s Syndrome. The couple were embroiled in bitter clashes with the British Psychology Society over their right to marriage after the BPS argued that Paulina’s Syndrome rendered her with an additional xx Chromosome and consequently could not be considered genetically female.
Under this ruling, their relationship was technically defined as ‘gay’ and with homosexuality still considered a mental illness in the psychological diagnostic manual DSM 4, attempts to marry should be vetoed. However, under somewhat acrimonious circumstance, Oddie married his man-darling in an impromptu ceremony in Gretna Green amid claims that a well-respected member of the BPS was a coveted gypsy catcher and known affiliate of the PFN.
They have 2 adopted children; Jose (aged 9); a Nicaraguan albino believed to have been orphaned when both of his parents were murdered by having large golf umbrellas lodged down their respective oesophagus and opened during their sleep, accordingly to autopsy reports. Allegations that Bill was holidaying in the area at the time of the murders have been furiously denied by the Oddie camp.
Their second adopted child, Eugene, named after Oddies father, is a 7 year old Chechnyan feral girl who is believed to been raised by Puffins; brought to Britain after being found by PFN leader Colin Snodberry following a meeting with a Chechnyan faction of the Gypsy Catching fraternity.
The family currently live in a converted former army facility Truro, Devon.