Wow. In a dramatic upgrade from My First Doll and My First Crafty Fag (hi Ian), last night saw My First Premiere. On arrival at Leicester Square it suddenly occurred to me that I had absolutely no idea what to do at a red carpet event. I ended up walking sheepishly up the said carpet, staring at my feet to avoid the beady eyed stares of the assembled public going "You! You're tall...but not famous so fuck off."
In the end the ridiculously lovely PRs walked me through everything and parked me next to a nice freelancer from Newsbeat and far away from the camp old roue holding court along the line. They asked us who we wanted to talk to and brought them along like celebrity sushi. Sadie Frost? No problem? Grayson Perry? Over here mate. Who's your new bloke, Kelly? It was like being wrapped in Heat magazine and well-salted.
In a shaming move, I skipped the film and party and went home to pass out on the sofa with leftovers. How bloody rock n roll.
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