Tonight, Matthew, I’ll be… Bridget Jones

Knickers. You guessed….red knickers for luck of course, de riguer and a la mode for NYE in Spain, doncha know? Yes, it’s that night again, they roll around with such speed these days, anyone would think we were growing older.

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Tempus might Fugit but we’ll be doing the same old thing here, freezing our asses off in the village Plaza, tradition dictates we have a grape for each chime of the midnight bells and a gulp of cheap Cava to wash them down. By the time the last bell tolls we’ll be doing Brando/Corleone impressions and laughing our heads off, whilst simultaneously kissing and wishing everyone a Feliz Ano Nuevo – (actually that translates as a happy new arse and not a year as I don’t have the requisite accent on this silly UK keyboard.)

I will indeed wish for a new arse, slightly less padded and much more svelte as I roll out the same old resolutions, as 5:2 begins again in earnest – only to be a forgotten friend – or fiend – by February. Sure we have our health – what more do we really need?

The more padded version of this derrière will be snugly – slightly too snugly – encased in red knickers for good luck tonight. Although we all know luck is something that’s made and worked on. And I’ll wish tonight for all of you the same – so have a great one, whether it’s cosy by the fire with Jules and his piano, or freezing in your own home town square/pub:

Athbhliain faoi shéan agus faoi
¡Feliz año nuevo!
or Happy New Year!

sylvester

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