I think I’ll re-brand myself as the ‘Celebrity Hunter’

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Forget Gobby Gibbs, I think I should re-brand myself as the ‘Celebrity Hunter’.

Why? Well, because it honestly doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing, somehow I’ll sniff out a celeb in the vicinity!

This week was no exception. I was invited to attend a big charity boxing match on Monday at HMS Nelson in Portsmouth.

Now, at this point I’ll admit that I’d never been to a live boxing match before. I can barely watch it on the TV without putting my hands over my face – it looks too painful.

Watching it take place a few feet in front of me was pretty graphic. But I actually enjoyed it – minus the blood pouring out of various noses. Yuk.

Anyway, there I was minding my own business, enjoying the nibbles and wine, when I got wind of a major A-list celebrity present.

Imagine my astonishment when I discovered that none other than heartthrob and movie star Hugh Jackman was in the building.

This sent me into a frenzy, but it was made worse by the people on my table not even knowing who Hugh Jackman was. Imagine how upset I was!

Mr Jackman, aka Aussie legend, aka Wolverine, aka ‘future husband to moi’ was gracing us with his presence (he was in town to film Les Miserables) and they didn’t even give it a second thought.

My whole night was in a tizz because I couldn’t just sit there watching the boxing and pretending that Hugh wasn’t there.

So the ‘Celebrity Hunter’ set off to find him, to declare my undying love for him and to ask him to marry me (as I’m clearly not going down the aisle with Matt any time soon).

I quickly forgot all about the boxing (I was losing my table bets anyway) and tried to track Hugh down. But by the time I found where I thought he’d be (a red rope VIP section with countless bodyguards and men who looked like they belonged in Men in Black), I was told he’d already gone!

I couldn’t believe it. He didn’t even say hello. I couldn’t ask him to consider my proposition…and I had no photographic evidence to prove he was ever there!

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