I've reached that time of the year when I genuinely fear there may be more alcohol flowing through my veins than actual blood.
I had a big works do on Friday which finished in the wee small hours. Then, this afternoon, I was at a drinks party. Tomorrow is my office Christmas lunch. And finally, on Wednesday, I have another drinks thing.
Well, I say "and finally." But we're off to Coleraine on Thursday - Christmas Eve - to begin five days and nights of guaranteed carnage. And then Wee John's due up almost immediately for his traditional New Year backdropped "long stay."
Changes in January, folks, big changes - if I'm still alive, that is.
Vanessa and I arrived arrived back safely from Manchester first thing this morning after an "interesting" Pet Shop Boys concert (where much more drink was taken).
I say interesting because it was good rather than great. As Vanessa pointed out, at times it was like a watching a recording of Top of the Pops. All the music was pre-programmed (unsurprisingly, to be fair) and a lot of the vocals were also clearly on tape. Plus, the not full crowd was a bit flat and the sound wasn't great.
But, having said all of this, it was still a privilege to see them. And, my word, were they camp.
Above, you can see the four stage dancers wearing their lovely cardboard boxes (which both band members also came on stage donning)
Later the four bouncing cardboard boxes became four gyrating buildings.
And, to finish with, four swaying Christmas trees.
So, you know, it wasn't dull. Hopefully tomorrow's office Christmas lunch won't be either (unlike last year's which was held in a "dry" restaurant. I'm still struggling to get over that).
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