I read on the internet (you know the 'Internet that Never Lies' one) that in days of old, sailors didn't know how to swim because they considered it would only prolong the inevitable.

That kinda makes sense, if your brain is warped and twisted like mine.

If my leg doesn't stop burning soon I'm gonna go drown myself in the river and quench that bloody flame. But you can't grill me and have your big piss-up until March, cos then U2 can play "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" or "In God's country" or better still "Running to Stand Stil" at my funeral.

Of course they'll do it; I'm a famous published blogger with a readership of over 3; a Legend in My Own Mind.

OK, not much over three.

Shut up.

Besides, I bought tickets to see them, didn't I?