Don Draper, a dog and a dinosaur (Belle)

John Hamm and I were holding hands and looking for lunch under the railway arches. A massively muscular dog came wandering towards us. “That dog looks like a stegosaurus”, I said and John Hamm laughed as if this was the best thing any human had ever said.

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Bacon roll threesome plot a murder (Rousse)

QDX, CSX, GSX and I were so pally that we had taken to meeting for a bacon roll in Crombies each morning, then returning to bed together for a cosy lie-in.

We also plotted a murder. Careful to protect ourselves, we persuaded Harry to do the deed itself. The execution would take place in the white bathroom, then Harry would dispose of the body and all other evidence.

However, I was now having cold feet. Everyone would suspect our tight-knit threesome, and forensic science would easily get the better of us if anyone thought to sift through the contents of the lavatory bowl.

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Hateful EPSRC staff (Rousse)

AP passed on the information that Tracey Houston at the EPSRC hated me.

‘She has no idea that I know you’, AP explained. ‘I expect that she thinks her opinions can be confined to the M4 corridor’.

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Unwise Edinburgh property investment (Rousse)

Goodness knows why we sold our beautifully proportioned Georgian Edinburgh New Town flat. Now, instead, we owned two ridiculous pieds à terre.

Even students would turn their noses up at the first. The second was uninhabitable thanks to the mess caused by uninvited squatters who had moved in over the winter.

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Sperm whale kills tourist on Uig Sands (Rousse)

While I photographed the salmon under the bridge on Uig Sands, I believed that TPR was exploring the caves.

I was interrupted by an almighty splash as a sperm whale fell from a great height into the river just behind me.  I found TPR squashed dead beneath it.

I ran as fast as I could up the beach to tell R and C that TPR was no more. It was only when I informed JC of the tragic news later the same day that I realised that I was now a very wealthy woman.

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The true meaning of tea towels (Belle)

After jogging for longer than I had ever managed before, I came across a large funeral procession. The crowd lining both sides of the street were singing to the coffin. I jogged through the funeral parlour and bumped into SW who was admiring the napery. “When you see this,” she said, “you really understand the true meaning and purpose of tea towels.”

I agreed enthusiastically while making a mental note to myself to look up tea towels on Wikipedia as soon as possible.

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Bill Clinton, Barack Obama and bitcoins (Belle)

The two former Mister Presidents couldn’t be more different. Bill Clinton was the worst housemate and I was delighted when he moved out.

Later, following a series of unexplained events, I found Barack Obama in the boot of my car. It was agreed it was better all round if he was my guest for the night. He was a delightful guest, admiring the eclectic decoration of my (surprisingly large and well-appointed) house.  However he refused to drink tea, asking instead for a ‘zinger’ which turned out to be hot water from the kettle with a splash of Worcestershire sauce.

The Secret Service arrived, with a warning about sending in their ‘security dogs’. I opened the lounge door and two teeny tiny puppies ran in. Mister President slept in the spare bedroom. Later he pressed a fistful of bitcoins into my hand to say thank you.

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