Elegantly wasted: time for birthday drinks!

Ten reasons why my forthcoming birthday will rock harder than a stone that has detached itself from the rest of the ground around it:

1. It means I will now be older than Michael Hutchence.

2. Time waits for no man. Many a mickle makes a muckle. Them's the breaks.

3. If you slice me open and count my rings, my innards display something resembling either Jesus Christ, Osama Bin Laden or Cheryl Cole.

4. I have been teetotal for four and a half months. My birthday is when I start drinking again. This alone will give people reason to be entertained on the night.

5. If you add my birth year to this year's date then subtract the two central numbers from the squares of themselves, you unlock the code that opens up the Indian burial ground hidden beneath this blog.

6. This year, Woody Allen will be only twice as old as me. Coincidentally, I am half as Jewish and four times funnier than him.*

7. It is one step closer to completing my plan for world domination, if by "rapid deterioration of basic cognitive functions" means "world domination".

8. This time last year I was somewhat ill, having had my innards scooped out by the NHS and sold at Christies. This year, I am stronger, faster, pussycat, kill kill.

9. Er...

10. ...that's it.

My birthday drinks will happen at Common Bar in Manchester on the evening of Saturday August 13th. Friends and followers of this blog are welcome to come along.

Here's a bigger version of that pic, above.

* I lie, of course. I am not funny.