"We demand a blog from Radge," it says.
Well, it is my fifth blogday. It's Brain Day too, that being the seventh anniversary of getting my head cut open by the nice neurosurgeon in order to...
(Deletes finer details of cranial incision for fear of eliciting lovely sick stuff all over your shiny HP monitors.)
Every year I plan to recreate the splendour, the majesty, the incalculable fucking drunkenness of Brain Day 2004, a session so all-consuming that it must have taken at least a month from my life. They'll be the crap, nursing home years though, so I don't mind.
We did it again in 2006, sectioning off the top floor of the Stag's Head for its purpose, but it felt more like an organised function than the 'scotch for breakfast' lunacy of its predecessor.
Sure, we had a personalised video message from Bono ("you're the ledge, Radge, Brain Day is the precursor and postcursor to my own vision of a united world order where CHANGE is gonna come, mister..." at which point we unplugged the telly) but it felt too commercialised so I haven't had one since.
Today, for Brain Day 7/Blog Day 5, I'm going looking for a bank loan. Then I might check out 'Mesrine' in the Screen. Then I'll come home and have a celebratory wank before going all foetal and wondering where it all went wrong.