Fin. And Vin.
No, now I’ve been thinking about this and I don’t believe it. I’m going to put my foot down this time. This time it’s pushing it. Someone has to take a stand.
I flatly don’t believe it’s 12 MONTHS since I pressed Play on the Paradiso new year’s epic iTunes playlist. It… can’t be.
Rubbish too, because I kind of feel I want to really, y’know, own the idea of tomorrow being a new year. A new start. A Day One. ..A Tomorrow I’m Going To Be Dead Good sort of day.
Oh don’t snort. You’re not helping.
Ah, well. I currently have FIP on, playing some random Cuban-sounding thing by a bloke apparently called Oran Oran. Just so you know. I’m tempted to put on my last-minute-possible-favourite tune of 2009 on to make it seem more like a party – Lindstrøm’s Baby Can’t Stop. It’s disco heaven. Very groovy. Will really get the party going. Yeah.
>EMPTY MOMENT’S GAZE<
..You, ah… you doing anything tonight?
>SUDDEN FLOUNCE TO FEET<
Oh that’s it. I’m going to go and find the Adam Ant costume I was wearing this time ten years ago.
It’s really ten years since the millennium started?
>SLIGHT SHOULDER SLUMP<
Well, I can hardly complain. The last ten years have been ten of the most formative and vital of my life. A fair bit of cool stuff has quietly happened in that time. Momo, for one. So perhaps the ol’ Adam Ant outfit will work its charm again tonight. Even if I’m sitting on the sofa with a mug of bleedin’ cocoa while wearing it, things will still seem more rock and roll as we start the new decade.
And so here’s to it. Here’s to turning the last ten years of learning stuff and mucking about into ten years of finally becoming a properly useful member of society.
(I said don’t snort.)
Happy New Year, with important capitals, to you and the whole bally family. See you in 2010, inshallah.
Break out the cheese and wine, I feel a middle aged new year coming on. And someone PLEASE turn up that there ruddy disco…