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Writer’s blogck.

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See what I did there…?

Yeah, I can’t think of anything to write about.

Or at least, nothing particularly fascinating/scandalous/worth reading in any way, shape or form.

So!

Have a Week In Pictures (a.k.a. The Ultimate Blog Post Cop-Out).

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Monday: This little beauty arrived in my inbox. For anyone who’s been living under a rock/outside Glasgow – next year, the city’s hosting the Commonwealth Games. I submitted my ticket application last month, then prayed I didn’t get everything I’d asked for. As I’d be verging on bankrupt. As is, I’m £150 worse off (assuming/hoping my card payment actually goes through), and I’m reasonably chuffed with what I got.

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Tuesday: The new SSE Hydro (Scotland’s largest entertainment venue, y’all) opened on Monday, but as I like to remain just *slightly* behind the curve, I waited til Tuesday, when Rod Stewart took a night off for the football and was replaced by Jesus Christ Superstar. I already loved Tim Minchin, but I was blown away by him in this. He’s just brilliant. And surprisingly ripped, when he appears in a tight black T-shirt at the end. Chris Moyles’ appearance is brief but hilarious, and I liked Melanie C more than I expected to. But the highlight of the entire thing was the friend I took with me (I won’t name her, as she promised to kill me if I told anyone this) asking at the start: “Jesus wasn’t in the Christmas story, was he?” I’ll give you ONE clue to her identity. She’s blonde.

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Wednesday: So, I’ve got the cold. I’ve had it for almost two weeks now, and it Will Not Fuck Off. But the lovely thing about being On The Radio is that everyone else feels the need to tell me I have a cold, too. No one ever gets in touch just to randomly tell me I’m doing a good job. *sniff*

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Still Wednesday: However, I was cheered up enormously by THIS. The front cover of Ron Burgundy’s autobiography, due for release on 19 November. Words cannot describe how much I need this in my life – it’s officially the first item on my Christmas list. If I can wait that long.

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Thursday: This was a Very Good Day. Having been unable to afford Fleetwood Mac tickets when they went on sale, and insanely jealous of everyone who could, I obviously did my utmost to blag a pair. My attempts were unsuccessful, and I’d resigned myself to an early night. Until 4pm, when my boss rang to say he’d managed to find me two tickets. Who needs sleep?! It was just brilliant. We had amazing seats (VIP, darling), and the sound in the new Hydro is spectacular. Well worth only getting two hours sleep for!

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Friday: What’s the best thing to do after two hours sleep? Why, an all-day drinking session, of course! I technically started at 10.05am (a celebratory glass of bubbly with a competition winner at work), before heading to a ladies lunch for the brilliant charity Debra. There was champagne on arrival and wine on the table. There was more champagne, as we shamelessly informed three different waiters that they were Our Favourite, in exchange for the surreptitious delivery of the leftover ‘arrival’ bubbles. Then there was prosecco. I swiped this fabulous centrepiece (which is now missing several packets of Love Hearts – I’m a generous drunk), and headed home. Where, at 7.30pm, I fell fast asleep. And missed my best friend Jo’s poker night. Jo, I’m very, very sorry. But in that state, I would have been SHIT at poker.

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The End: This came in my goodie bag from the Debra lunch, and I just thought it was really cute (my friend disagreed, and thought it was cheesy, but what does she know? She was pished). So there you go.



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