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Loves Singstar™ Rock Ballads for the Playstation 2 . . . pass the mic, this is the best Christmas present EVER! Alesha Dixon. There’s nothing this woman can’t do. Long socks. They’re warm and, better yet, cover up the pale horror of winter legs. The return of cowboy boots, currently being promised in the weekly mags – yeehah! Take That in concert at the O2. The boys are back and they’re better than ever. They performed a fantastic set of new songs, but of course what we were really excited about was seeing them do the old favourites. Could it be magic? We certainly think it could be. And when they fell to their knees and did the routine to Pray – well, we could have sworn we saw a heavenly body. Oh, and one of us HELD HANDS WITH HOWARD DONALD. Well, a hand. His left, to be exact. ‘A moment passed between us as our eyes met and our fingers locked, the world slowing to an almost-stop: fans turned, disbelieving, at the scene of quietly unfolding love; Barlow’s ballad crackled like electricity between us; Orange was halfway up a pole, upside down (it should be mentioned). And we all know it only takes a minute, girl. With the gentle pressure of his skin on mine, Howard was unravelling the world as I knew it: where was I? What was my name? Things were not as they seemed. From where I was standing three feet below the stage, even Mark Owen looked tall’. Loathes The end of Heroes . . . come back Peter Petrelli and save us! The post-Christmas paunch . . . Who ate all the mince pies? Evidently we did. Losing at Scrabble. No more Strictly – sob. Chocolate withdrawal. Celebrity mums whose post-baby tummies are flatter than ours after one roast dinner. WAG fitness/style videos – puh-lease.
Posted 12/01/2008 15:05:28 by Women's fiction team with 0 comments.