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Anecdote: I shook Cherie Blair's hand on Wednesday. Walking down from the station to Sayers. Caught flashing sirens, was gawping about looking for twisted metal of any sort and found none (disappointing). Me, "what's with all the chaos?" Sayers, "Oh, it's Cherie Blair!". Pressing the flesh, as she's originally from Crosby donchaknow. Walked out with a jumbo sausage roll that I was far more interested in and got sucked into the eye of the crowd. Face to face with the corpse lady herself, shaking of hands, plastic smiles from both of us, "Hi son, are you OLD ENOUGH to vote?"*, "Oh, ha ha! Just about!". She slapped some ribbony shuriken thingy to my chest, I just turned round and walked off and binned it, getting death eyes from the crowd all the while. I stick it to the man, me. The sausage roll was considerably more memorable.
* This is funny because, if you met me, you'd secretly suspect my girlfriends were borderline pedophiles. |
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