Blame everything on the cold.

I’m trying to remember what I might have been doing with my time on New Year’s Eve, but apart from trying out the Metafilter channel on IRC (which is scary – lots of people talking at the same time and by the time I’ve formulated my gag about Paul McCartney, the subject has changed to credit card fraud).

And quite against my better judgement I watch Jools Holland’s Hootenany on BBC 2, which primarily demonstrates that Solomon Burke (sounds like a Robert E Howard adventurer, I know) is like unto a god. I think that this might have been Mr Holland’s specific though occult purpose behind this year’s programme.

Looking absent-mindedly to see what the time is, I discover it to be 12:37am: I have missed the turn of the year altogether. Make of that what you will.

Oh, I have a cold. Blame everything on the cold.