Giving names to the animals on You Tube

I have good news, and I have bad news.

Of course, the 'goodness' or otherwise of the news is entirely dependent on your viewpoint, but I have just expended my limited reserves of philosophical energy on explaining what 'middle age' is for you down in the comments box of the previous post, so just take it from me - there's good and bad.

The bad news is that I watched the last three episodes of 'Deadwood' last night (there are no plans to shoot any more) and that I woke up with a bloody awful hangover this morning. I still have it.

The good news is that I seem to have drunk myself into rude health again - most of the symptoms of the mysterious illness I have been moaning about for the last few weeks have disappeared, and - for the first time for ages - I can swallow without feeling pain, so maybe I don't have a terminal illness after all.

I was sitting in front of the iMac watching Deadwood last night, sipping - as is my custom - a glass of post-prandial wine, when I remembered that there was about half a bottle of Irish whiskey in the kitchen - which is very unusual in this household. Normally I don't drink spirits at all, and only bought the bottle a few weeks ago when this illness first reappeared.

I froze the DVD, stood up, went to get the bottle, then sat down and drank the lot, finishing long after Her Indoors had gone to bed. In the process of finding the clip of music on You Tube that I used for last night's drunken post, I somehow managed to have a furious argument with a musician who had done a cover of Bob Dylan's 'Man Gave Names to all the Animals', and - for the life of me - I don't know how it started (other than me commenting that his music was 'shit' and calling him some very rude names). I also don't know how he got hold of my email address either - I'll have to be more careful in future, when I drunkenly insult musicians in the middle of the night.

The other thing I learnt was that Mr Dylan must have a fantastically efficient team of snoopers who take down any illicit recording of his work on You Tube as soon as it appears, because you can only find third-rate covers, which - to my mind - is even worse than losing royalties on the real thing. They must work for Starbucks as well.

Anyway, it was a small price to pay for such a positive outcome from a prolonged self-medication session, and I only hope the hangover doesn't take as long to go as the original illness did. Happy Sunday.