(Actually it isn't. Friday. Or significant. Sharp-eyed readers of Notes from an Evil Burnee who look for my posts every day — do I have any of those? — may have noticed that the posting date accompanying each blogpost isn't necessarily the date it's actually posted. When I'm busy with other things I can't always post on my intended daily schedule, so I catch up later and back-date posts where necessary. And this was the week of the massive Blogger outage, so even if I'd had time I wouldn't have been able to post anyway.)
Friday the Thirteenth is not significant, other than it's the date when superstitious people believe that they are more likely to experience bad luck. Which is probably a self-fulfilling prophecy, so maybe they're right after all. (I read a Hansard report the other day — David Tredinnick claiming that surgeons won't operate when there's a full moon, because blood won't clot properly. It seems like he really believes this nonsense — but he also believes homeopathy works, and wants more research to prove it. Horse, please follow the cart.)
With this (rather self-indulgent) post — my 400th — I'm up to date again. It's been
*Self-indulgent and innumerate.