For my birthday, I have mostly been drinking tea and watching Shane Warne finally retire, presumably to become a travelling hair salesman or something. I was intending to go for a pub meal with my parents, but reports of all-night vomiting from people who ate there mid-week have demoted that idea to Plan-B status, behind doing nothing until tomorrow, then getting drunk.
In any case, regarding tomorrow's other expected events, I'm banking on being left-behind until October. I imagine that by then the sudden influx of a couple of million irate Arab Christians and/or the inheretence of Ireland's/Greece's/America's debt (depending whether they're Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant up there) will have brought low the Kingdom of Heaven, and we heathens and sinners have to decide whether or arrange a bail-out (or a no-fly-zone, because fuck you, cherubs).
Meanwhile, I've inherited a laptop that's somewhat less shite than my broken-down desktop PC, so now I'm working on a fingertip callus from this damnable touchpad. Exciting times.
Friday, 20 May 2011
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