"We've been running the show for nearly six months now," he begins. "In that time, Harry and I have made the move from spending two hours talking about the tunes we have just played and what party he is crashing that weekend towards something that vaguely mirrors the dynamic hustle of Glasgow. And yet..." He trails off into silence.
"It's not enough?"
"Don't the pills help with that?"
"It is all very well to address my anxiety through medication. It's Glasgow that is the problem. It's the second biggest centre of the arts in the UK, after London, and I can't cover it all. This week, we go visual art through the Virginia Gallery - "
"An exhibition of Painted Ladies? How very Vile Arts."
"Then Flatrate are actually doing what I wish more theatre groups would do: getting their work into the pubs. We go all National with Dunsinane, over to Edinburgh for some Mutationpress action with Mark Harding. As for music, I only heard of Andrea Marini on Twitter this week, and I have a new guest for the show."
"I am their friends on MySpace."
"But what do you really want to do?"
"I want to tell the world about Glasgow."
"And get sponsorship for your hare-brained schemes, no doubt. Anyway," said the doctor, removing his rubber gloves. "You can pull your trousers up now and I'll see you next month."
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