And so the Mayan apocalypse came and went with barely a blip on the radar. It was a bit of fun, counting down the minutes, but ultimately I don't know anyone who actually took it seriously. Or at least I don't think I do.
Here in the afterlife, things are pretty much the same. The list of stories to be written on my wall is largely unchanged, the stack of books waiting to be read seems larger, even though I get through a couple a week, and most TV is still rubbish. Thank goodness for DVDs.
I've been listening to a lot of old blues. B.B. King, Taj Mahal, James Cotton, Johnny Copeland, Stevie Ray Vaughan - just to name a few. Seems appropriate in this post apocalyptic world.
Remember, the blues ain't nothin' but a feeling.