New Years Eve. Meh. I’m not really a fan of the event. I enjoy having fun, but I don’t like fun being forced upon me. “Oooh, do you know what date it is, Sean? It’s New Years Eve. You must go out, enjoy yourself, drink yourself into a coma, before waking up dead. It’s the law, don’t you know.”  Not my cup of tea really.

My disinterest in the New Year’s festivities is probably a good thing, as I haven’t found anyone to spend the evening with. Unsurprisingly, I am not too fussed. I’ve had a good day so far. I spent the afternoon with a fellow Bath City fan, watching local side Chippenham Town slug it out in an enjoyable Southern League game (a blog about this will appear on Sean’s Stories in due course).

It is now the evening. My tea is about to be cooked – a hearty meal of sausages, Aunt Bessie’s roast potatoes and frozen vegetables. A bottle of Thatcher’s cider is also in the fridge, although I may go for one of the many bottles of Bath Gem, I received for Christmas.

Once I have wined and dined, the trusty PlayStation 3 will keep me entertained. Alongside the bottles of real ale in my Crimbo stocking, I was lucky enough to be given a copy of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3. If I get bored of killing, a recent Amazon delivery has seen me acquire a copy of Sonic Generations.

However, I’m tempted to avoid gaming all together this evening. I have my eye on the Blu Ray copy of The Inbetweeners movie. This will be followed up by Match of the Day, which tonight looks to be even funnier than The Inbetweeners, thanks to this. Happy birthday, Alex – you twat.

On that delightful and heart-warming note, I bid you farewell and a happy new year – although not really, it’s just another day. I’ll just say ‘have a happy Sunday tomorrow’.