The morning after the night before. I spent the first few hours of the day prancing around the house, saying to myself:
“Forest won.”
Yep.
“Forest won.”
We don’t get to say it that often these days.
Robert Elms had his best show of the year. The NYE broadcast is the best music of the past year.
Little chat, with three hours of quality tunes remembered. Galen and Paul, Gentlemen’s Dub Club and Billy Valentine all got a look in.
At a push. I’d say Billy Valentine is my album of the year. It was a triumphant return, and very timely as well with the social message.
My watch pinged with an ebay notification: you’ve sold four Elvis Costello cassettes.
Goodo.
The hangover eased. I edited and published the snaps from the Brightlingsea walk yesterday.
To the pub!
Or rather To the plural pubs!
We decided on a Wiv Run pub crawl to see in the New Year. What is this? 1990 all over again?
Our days of being dirty stop outs are long behind us. And so the pub crawl started mid-afternoon. I was optimistic that I would be back at base by 6pm.
Chin chin.
Update:
Bed by 9:30pm.
HNY