Gentlemen in their mid-thirties shouldn't wear tiaras: my totally official state-funded birthday post

Tell the world, tell the world, today is my birthday!

And like a more famous Queen than I, the urge to give a formal address to the nation is a little too self-indulgent to avoid. So please allow me to offer you a little snapshop of my life at 34. Right here, right now, sitting at a computer surrounded by streamers and cake, this is what comprises my life:

>a long to-do list on my mobile phone, a sore little finger, beer, black clothing, candles by my bath, Bleep dot com, broken decks, Chris Moyles' autobiography, debt free for the first time, designing a blog for my company, F1 Losers League, friends that I love dearly, Glitchbelt, Greenbelt anticipation, Heroes, jacket potatoes for lunch, lots of lovely electronica, looking for a way back into the hustle and bustle of the city, more CDs than I can count, my 18-year-old cat, notepads, new trainers, occasionally writing letters for Amnesty International, on the cusp of needing a hair cut, Piccadilly Records, piles of neglected paperwork, planning an art project with the working title Trash, radio presenting, Sanctus 1, slow computers, some rarely used studio equipment, Squeaky Productions, still feeling the benefits of a brilliant shrink, thinking I need a new mattress, this blog, travelling to Cheshire daily, trying to moderate my time on Facebook, waiting for a reason to drink the bottle of champers I got for a previous birthday, and wondering about using the Oxford comma more often.

So there you go. I'd better press 'publish' before midnight...