An unexpected downside of live TV coverage of the Poppies is the possibility of being introduced to millions of viewers as a miserable sod.
Worse still, numerous friends and relatives who know you to be a frothy, fun and happening guy, overflowing with wit and jollity, see what you look like when "enjoying" the Poppies. And then tell you how miserable you look via numerous WhatsApp messages and BBC freeze-frames of you looking oh-so glum.
We can't all be gurningly-grinning bundles of annoyingly bouncy positivity like Vince. but bloody hell, how f*cking miserable did I come across on the telly?
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Miserable Sod
| Digging deep for victory, but otherwise miserable |
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Wearing a hat. A miserable hat |
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God knows. |
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Catching up on emails. Miserably. |
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Keeping up to date with Strictly Come Dancing |
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Silvano finally has enough of my grimness and steps in armed with his usual overflowing bounce and brazen cheerfulness and just about manages to coax a reluctant smile |
Looking good!
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